


A mobster in love

by b92morgan



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dark Arthur, Dub/Non-Con Elements, F/M, Forced Marriage, M/M, Manipulation, Merlin hates his name, Merlin is Greek, Possessive Behavior, Stalker Arthur, so he calls himself Colin, this is the translation of an original work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-09-25 18:17:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 62,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20376025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b92morgan/pseuds/b92morgan
Summary: He is the first-born of a mob boss and lives his life surrounded by banal women and corrupted men. But then someone caught his attention one day, him who had given up feeling something in his heart. That boy in the fruit market had so captivated him that he felt like an idiot. An idiot in love. Or rather... a mobster in love--------------------------------this fiction is not mine. it is the translation of the spanish fiction Un mafioso enamorado by Lucy Analiz (Lucy_Analiz). All merits to her





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Un mafioso enamorado.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3609573) by [Yuymine (Lucy_Analiz)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy_Analiz/pseuds/Yuymine). 

Colin Morgan knew that "Camelot" Club was on the Seventh Street, in the Orchid neighborhood. The ghost of a candle vendor was said to be in the doorway, perfuming the air in his wake with the scent of melted wax.

As he passed through the door, Colin recalled this legend, told to him by his chief, the wonderful and fantastic clairvoyance Gaius. Trembling at the possibility of seeing such a spectacle, he decided not to delay too much.

He shook the rain from his denim jacket thinking that on nights like this, some of London's neighborhoods looked so mysterious that they overstimulated the imagination.

There was a huge mirror at the entrance of the club and he paused a moment to study himself. His eyes looked huge on his face ... he had a look of fear, insecurity, and felt helpless, despite the worn jacket that covered his long plaid light colored shirt. Colin had bought the jacket in a small semi-new clothing store and this was the first time he was wearing it. He thought it would give him a sense of safety but he could not hide the fact he was tense and nervous.

When he called the Pendragons to arrange this appointment, one of them had answered and told him that he would be at the club at nine. His voice was cold and hard and had a foreign accent. He didn’t have to explain why he wanted to see him. He had just said he had been waiting for Colin’s call.

Knowing he had to confront nothing more and nothing less than that family made him feel five years old again.

The club was built on the seventh street more than a century ago and was a playhouse frequented by young aristocrats who undoubtedly acted with intolerable arrogance.

The current manager had restored it to his old beauty and splendor. Wood, copper, and dark red velvet created the desired atmosphere. The staircase Colin was climbing to the owner's private office was carpeted in dark garnet color, and led to a corridor lit by glass lamps on the walls.

“So…sorry" he said when he collided with a tall man, rather stout but relaxed. The man smiled half-way and continued his way, in the opposite direction of where he was going.

Crossing the corridor toward the door with the sign "private," he felt his legs weaken beneath the scrawny fabric of his old jeans.

In seconds, like in a film tape, thousands of images were installed in his mind, but they were about a day in particular.

The first time he met the already very famous Pendragon.

***

Hunith had sent them to the main market, looking for fresh fruit. At nineteen, Gwaine was already a hopeless savage.

While his older brother was flirting with the saleswoman, Merlin, who was only thirteen years old, took charge of the orders instead of his older brother, but it didn’t matter. As always, the younger boy loved his brother dearly. The apple that was been inspected by his deep blue eyes slipped from his fingers and fell to the stone floor (almost all London was made of giant rocks, aged, but excessively sculptural to the architectural sight). His eyes followed the fruit, apologizing to the saleswoman and going to pick it up from the ground. Obviously, he would pay; it was the right thing to do, after all. His fingers were too clumsy for a simple apple to survive him.

Something sped past him.

Curious by nature, he stopped to watch the arrival of a black limousine, which parked next to the opposite sidewalk. Two girls, about two-and-a-half years old (each with a red balloon), two young men, about twenty-something, and an older man (with a strange cane), got out of the vehicle, but the two young men stayed around the car.

The old man was dressed in expensive clothes and was wearing a fur coat, while the girls had dresses with flops that reached their knees. Both were laughing and singing. They walked to the church up the street.

His brother yelled at him, reminding him that the woman wanted to finish serving him to continue with the rest of the clients. Merlin put the apple in the bag and said he would take it; then he ordered garlic to which his brother wrinkled his nose with revulsion and he rolled his eyes in front of such childishness.

“Boy, do you need anything else?”

He shook his head, but before turning his face to the saleswoman who was attending him, he noticed that someone else was exiting from that extravagant vehicle: a boy, probably of the same age as his brother.

Merlin noticed how the boy seemed to stay next to the other two young men, smoking to one side, while watching the older man and the girls, who were perhaps his family. At least, a bush of fair hair yelling "Prince! Come with us! Come on, Daddy wants you to come!" made him think so.

Both girls came back for him, but this princely boy seemed resolute in his decision to stay by the car. The older man got out of sight, but the girls stayed close to the boy. Those who looked like his bodyguards smiled at the image of both little girls begging for the elder's attention.

The prince...

He seemed to have blond hair, escaping from a manly black beret, and was wearing a white shirt, jeans, and a knee-long black leather jacket. His outfit wasn’t that much of a the big deal, but Merlin could tell by the way he walked and by the way his shoulder moved when he turned his back to him that he was a very strong man with pale skin and...

Very handsome.

Merlin blushed when, while he was staring, the boy turned to him. Their gazes met; his were as crystal clear as a spring or a stormy ocean. He could not decide which one. The seriousness of his face and the coolness of his blue eyes, like his own, but less expressive, pinned him to such a point that he even forgot how to breathe. It was like seeing two equal spheres reflecting in a mirror, but one of the pair was of a more beautiful blue than his own, of that he was certain.

Time seemed to stop, but it actually didn’t. One of the girls lost the balloon and no one but Merlin noticed it. He let go of the bag and, without even thinking about it, ran with all the speed his legs could manage. The blond only got to see the fear reflected in his eyes.

The prince turned to see what Merlin was looking at and shouted, "Morgana, be careful!" The car's horn covered the rest of the shouts.

The girl stiffened, waiting for the impact that never came. She only felt a strange heat wrapping around her body and spinning it like a spinning top. When she opened her eyes, she flushed in front of those she believed were the eyes of her over protective older brother, but they weren’t. Those two blue pearls expressed too many emotions all at once to be his grumpy brother’s. She continued to expand her field of vision and blinked, noticing the dark hair, the nose and the large, but beautiful, ears.

"Are you all right, Miss?"

_Are you all right?...all right? All right!? well_...yeah, Morgana felt like in heaven. As if an angel had taken her in his arms, opening his precious wings to show her how perfect and wonderful heaven was.

"I'm fine, thanks God..." Morgana gazed at him sweetly and, between sighs, caressed his face and asked, "What's your name, my angel?"

"Morgana, are you okay?" Someone took the girl off Merlin and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Stop bothering this boy." Merlin looked up from the floor and once again stared at the blond, who was holding the arm of the girl he had just saved from being run over.

The following events surprised him greatly…

He returned his attention to the present, from which he shouldn’t stray away...

There was a deep silence that was only interrupted by the distant murmur of voices coming from the gambling halls, where rich strangers were making the kind of gambling that had got his stupid older brother in trouble.

Colin didn’t know how he would make the Pendragons benevolent with them, but he was determined to try. He thought it might not be that difficult for him, since, according to Gaius, thirty years ago Uther Pendragon, the leader of the largest mafia family in London, had proposed marriage to Hunith (his late mother), but it was likely he’d resent their whole family for having his offer rejected by her.

He stopped in front of the office door to take heart before confronting reality. He had not been intruding on his brother's business in a long time, and he never needed to speak with people outside his social class. So he had to arm himself with courage to raise his hand and press the bell. He heard a buzzing, and the latch gave way under the pressure of his hand.

He entered the room, where one of the Pendragons was waiting for him. He was standing. Curtains of dark red covered the windows, and isolated the rain and the darkness.

Stiff as a rock and harmless as a rabbit in front of a lion, Colin stared into those fiery eyes that seemed to never have known tenderness. They had the brightness of intelligence... blue eyes, like those of an upset ocean, Colin thought, and the narrowed eyelids made the shadow of the dark lashes appear on his skin.

The profile of his nose was very straight, like that of a Greek statue. His lips seemed never to have spoken kind or tender words. Colin felt that his power dominated the entire room and was afraid.

"So we meet again..." The harsh, metallic tone of his voice made his heart turnover.

How could he have such bad luck?

It was him…

"How long has it been since we last saw each other?... three years, if I remember correctly?”

He was sure that memory never failed him in matters that affected his life. He realized, even before he spoke, that his voice was going to betray his nervousness.

"I... it must be as you say, Mr...Pendragon" His tongue almost tangled as he pronounced his name, and the words came hoarsely and with difficulty out of his throat. The blonde caught it.

"My little rascal, you look like you need a drink."

He approached the bar and pulled out a bottle and two long glasses. His movements were elegant, an unusual trait in tall and muscular men, accentuated by the costly fabric of his suit. He poured the drinks with a firm pulse. However, Colin was sure he was trying to subdue his fury, which made him much more dangerous.

"Come, sit down." He indicated a leather chair near his desk. "Take off your jacket, and make yourself at home"

He was behaving with irony, of course. He knew very well he was more nervous than a cat. This was reflected in his eyes as he watched him approaching the chair. He did not take off his jacket, for he did not want to feel the look of those eyes on his slim body.

He had an appointment for dinner with Gaius but he had called to tell him he was feeling ill, which was not a lie, because being "alone" with Arthur Pendragon was so disturbing that he was feeling a bit weak for real.

As he watched him pouring the wine into the glasses, he remembered the way they had crossed a couple of times in the lonely streets of London. After that accident during their first meeting, thousands more followed. His gaze had always troubled him, along with the way he seemed to study him in the distance. Colin always felt too harassed by this man.

"Here you go" He handed him a glass of wine. "You are very pale, my child. Wine will do you good.”

"Th... thank you" His voice came out weak and he took a long sip of wine, from a very special harvest.

“Feel better?"

The blond sat on a corner of the large desk and stared at him. Colin had never been more aware of all his appeal. _How could he persuade him that Gwaine was worthy of his consideration when the truth was that his brother was a scammer who deserved to be punished?_

"The wine is very good," He managed to say, even though it was not the wine, but the staring he was the object of that had made him speak breathlessly. A sense of humiliation came over him when he realized that he had dared to come here to ask him not to punish Gwaine even though the blond should do it.

"Do you want me to make things easy for you?" Arthur Pendragon bent down and forced him to look at him, "You're here at the insistence of that rascal of your brother, aren’t you? He hides behind his small, tender little brother, doesn’t he? He pushes you into the arena with the lion, waiting for me to catch your neck between my jaws, while he sits at a bar, somewhere, trusting that he will not be punished like a thief if I find his brother to my liking, isn’t it? Maybe he does believe I still feel some gratitude... for that time."

"Not at all, Mr. Pendragon."

His gaze seemed to pierce through the flesh to his bones...It was the look of the fierce knight in the body of a mighty King.

"Then explain to me, young man," There was a sarcastic tone in his voice, "I would have sworn your brother was delivering you into the arms of my father, let us say, in exchange of his own skin."

Colin could not help but start. It was true, it seemed that he had come to offer himself to the Pendragons, in exchange for the promise that Gwaine would not face trial.

"I... I come to see you," he said, "hoping to make you understand why Gwaine is like this. He is a characterless man, so it will be hard for you to understand his weakness”

"My child, do not try to flatter me by speaking of my strength of character, rather, it is my bad temper that you should take into account" He spoke in a biting tone, telling him that the courtesy he was showing him was superficial and that, inside, he was furious, as Colin had imagined.

"I don’t blame you for being angry" His fingers twitched around the wine glass and didn’t object when it was filled again, "You have... the right to be furious, but will you have your money back if Gwaine goes to jail?"

"Probably not" His eyes twinkled, "But at least I will have the satisfaction to see that despicable subject behind bars. You don’t like me calling him a thief, do you, Colin? I can see a shadow of pain in your eyes, but he abused the trust I gave him. Would you really expect me to overlook his crime? I would have to be a fool, or a saint, if I did it, and I am nothing of the sort. I am a man, with English blood, who happened to believe in redemption"

The young man looked at him quizzically, after finishing his glass of wine.

He explained, "It’s a just revenge that I have the right to reclaim"

Colin sighed shakily when he realized that there was no hope that this man would take pity on Gwaine.

“My brother is horrified at the idea to go to jail... cannot you understand what would happen to him while being locked up with those criminals? He is not a criminal. He is a fool and has the vice of the game. If he really was a thief, he would have been more careful to cover up his robbery, and you know that"

"The fact he is a fool increases my contempt," said Arthur Pendragon scornfully. "Why do you bother about a brother like that? Do you think he cares for someone besides himself? Being in prison may help him stop being a stupid, selfish, cocky young man.”

"You... are very harsh" Colin swallowed. "You have two sisters... for whom you feel responsible, don’t you?"

"I am an only child... the son of a single mother who was banished by her own family." As he said that, a melancholy expression darkened his features as his eyes stared at Colin's dark hair, which was a mess, perhaps because of London winds. "In England, it isn’t easy to be the son of a woman who doesn’t have a gold ring on her finger," He went on, "my mother taught at a school in a forgotten town in the middle of nowhere. There, she met a stranger, who, the same way he arrived, left her pregnant, carrying a child who would only bring her suffering. Fearing the villagers’ derision, she kept it secret, gave birth there, but died at the very moment I took my first cry. A friend of hers took care of me until the day my father found out about my existence and took me away with him. When someone like him doesn’t have male children with his legitimate wife, they look for the bastards they have sired around. Although, I have a nice memories of when he was carrying me on his back.” A faint smile formed on his lips, which disappeared at once. “I grew up running freely in the field and beating fools like your brother in the alleys of this city.”

“Do you miss your town?”

He softly denied. "It was a healthy, but difficult, life. I learned to survive, to face the good and bad times, to harden myself against the derision of the village children who knew I had no father. It was said that my mother was very beautiful, but never married.” Arthur Pendragon waved his hand and continued, "You know... I suspect my mother never knew his real name. They met, liked each other, and made love under the stars. Now, twenty-five years later, it is you and I, facing each other, in one of the private offices of a club that was my father's, but that now belongs to me, and naively, or perhaps because you despise me, you expect me to tell you that it is all right that your brother’s stolen my money ... a lot of pounds. Did he tell you the amount?”

Colin felt himself blush for the humiliation for Gwaine's behavior, which made him appear as if he could justify his attitude.

"Yes, Gwaine told me." The words seemed to be torn from his throat by force.

“Long before my father took me, I suffered many diseases...I worked in order to eat and spent many cold nights sleeping in a barn without even an old blanket to cover me.... It may be mean at your eyes, but I have never stolen anything from anyone.”

Colin lowered his gaze, feeling a deep embarrassment invading him. He had never warned Gwaine when he spoke ill of this man, perhaps because he harbored a grudge against him for being part of an organization so hated in the streets.

“Is your mother still alive?” He heard the blond ask. No one had ever been curious about his family.

"No, my mother died of a yellow fever four years ago" He answered in a deep voice, carefully pronouncing the English language, as some language teacher had taught him. His vocabulary was good and the Greek accent added distinction to his manner of speaking.

“Does your father live in... in London?”

Colin denied, “He’s also dead”

"I'm sorry."

Merlin sensed the decision that was the main characteristic of his life. -He belonged to the group of men who had triumphed by their own efforts, and who appeared to be made of rock, and not flesh- Arthur Pendragon was born poor, but had a great intelligence. His education at the village school must have been very simple; perhaps his parents had inherited a cunning and ambitious mind.

“Sadness and guilt killed him.”

His heart hurt just by remembering his father, but had to maintain his composure not to end up crying when facing this so powerful man.

His stormy blue eyes met his as if reading his thoughts. Laughter echoed against the walls around them.

"Does that mean you're the head of the family now?" Colin narrowed his eyes as people in pain do. "Because your brother is far from being able to care for one" Arthur Pendragon spoke without emotion.

"I'm enough," Colin replied coldly. He sighed sadly, and told himself that he should not think of his parents.

He looked at Merlin, whose face seemed to be mingled with the features of an angel, making his eyes turn golden. They were threatening.

_How to convince such a man to soften?_ When he asked himself this, Merlin found a very disturbing answer.

He met the blue eyes that had put a price on his brother's head, and the agitated and fearful heartbeats confirmed his suspicions.

Being so clever about people and money, he would have guessed that Gwaine could not work at Camelot Club without one day trying to seize the club's profits. He knew, like Colin, that his brother should not work in a place where he would hear the relentless clink of coins and the noise of the dice.

"You knew he would do that, didn’t you?" Colin's eyes flashed like a crystal on his pale, frightened face.

“Do what, my child?” He asked so politely that he was about to throw the rest of the wine into his face.

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You had it planned”

"What are you insinuating, _Merlin_?"

Colin hated that name, he hated it with all his heart.

Since a young age, people, his mates and relatives, made fun of him, especially of his long ears. Since then, every time he introduced himself to someone new, he said "Colin" like his grandfather. His parents weren’t there to listen or see him and his brother was a lost case.

How he wanted to be of age and be able to change his name legally.

"Listening to that name on your lips makes me sick."

"What a pity, little one, because the origin of your name suits you. How good it would be next to my name... with Arthur, like King Arthur.”

Colin got to his feet, but when he tried to throw the wine at him, Arthur was no longer in his place. He had instinctively and quickly moved away, and the wine splashed on the desk, staining the papers on it, and a leather case, with its initials engraved in gold letters.

“What do you want? What do you wish to get?”

The way the blond was looking at him answered all his questions. The half smile was only the conclusion of a silent prayer or command.

In that same silence, Colin's heart was beating with painful force and speed.

This time, Arthur would propose a deal with a polite and distant tone... this time, he would tell him that if he wanted his brother's freedom, Colin would have to give up his own.


	2. Te quiero solo mio

Trying to throw the wine at Arthur, when he was supposed to try to appease him, had not been very clever.

"Doesn’t that look like a childish gesture to you?" Arthur suddenly approached his little rabbit and removed the empty goblet he was holding in his hand. Colin felt his knees weakening. “You seem as dumb and insensitive as your brother, my child, and that behavior has to be punished.”

"And... you're going to punish me, aren’t you?" He recoiled, feeling his hip touch the corner of the desk. He challenged him with his gaze as his hair glowed in the light of the desk lamp.

His eyes were trailing him slowly, and the little brunet was frightened by his threatening height, and by the strong shoulders, wrapped in the expensive black cloth that girded that well worked and full of strength body.

He was taller than most Englishmen, perhaps because of the stranger who had seduced his mother on the hills where the wildflowers grew. Merlin was not that short, but... the blond was taller.

He really couldn’t imagine Uther Pendragon without his bodyguards, seducing a woman and then leaving as if nothing had happened.

Something told him he should begin to believe in the unimaginable.

Arthur Pendragon.

Each letter was heavy with mystery.

He was unlike anything Colin had known. He had suffered hunger, cold, and teasing, so how could it hurt him that Colin was cold and mocking him? But none of this revealed the eyes that captivated him with his platinum flashes, trapping him in the sinister glow of their depths.

"People like you," he said, "who run places like this, provoke those who cannot resist the game.”

“For real?” He asked, bored. “I once heard your brother calling you his pedantic brother.”

Colin blushed. “Someone like you knows how to set a trap!”

"So you've decided to think I tempted your brother, like a snake?"

"It's one of the devil's costumes, isn’t it?" He replied defiantly.

"So I'm not only the damn Englishman that harasses you in the streets, I've also become the devil?" He spoke with sarcasm, but in those deep blue eyes there was no sign that by saying that he would have made him lose control.

"Why did you ask Gwaine to run this club? It wasn’t because you are magnanimous. You knew perfectly well he liked to play cards, bet on horses and make other types of bets. Gwaine cannot live without playing and you knew it.”

“Perhaps I needed to prove something, my dear Merlin; for example, that it is privilege that corrupts, not poverty.”

"If that's what you think of Gwaine, then it makes no sense for you to-" Colin stopped talking, for he couldn’t express in words what his body knew for sure.

"Are you implying that what I want is you?" He mocked. “Do you think I've only been waiting for you for the last six years?”

"No..." The mockery in his eyes caused a shudder to shake Colin's body.

Memories returned to him again.

_"Morgana, are you okay?" Someone took the girl off Merlin and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Stop bothering this boy." Merlin looked up from the floor and once again stared at the blond, who was holding the arm of the girl he had just saved from being run over._

If a look could open the doors of the soul, Merlin was certain that that prince would have stolen his. He did not know what to do or say. That man was too handsome to dare to talk to him... moreover, just by thinking about it, his face blushed like a foolish teenager.

Arthur cleared his throat, remembering that time still ran, with or without them. He put Morgana down and knelt before the boy.

"Are you hurt? What's your name? Do you have any injuries? You live near?”

Colin, who only sank more in those eyes, was shocked by so much questioning. _Was he worried about him?_

He blushed more than a normal human being could.

“I'm fine.” He rose from the ground, when the blond boy held out his hand to help him; but being so shy in the presence of others, he refused to accept his help. “I feel only a little pain in my left arm, I think... I fell on it, but it's nothing.”

“Nothing, huh?” He took a step toward him. “Just let me see...”

“What?” Merlin began to say. "Hey!” The prince held him by the wrist. “Let me go!”

“Why? What are you going to do..." The blond tried to take off his old brown coat to examine his arm.

The girls were surprised at the way their older brother was acting, but they only watched closely.

One of the young bodyguards joined the young ladies, not quite understanding what was going on. The other ran to the edge of the sidewalk and a motorcyclist came to his side. Without thinking twice, he got on the bike, starting his way behind the car that had almost run over the girl.

Merlin could barely be surprised at the quick reaction of these bodyguards, as he struggled to push the blond away.

“Let go of me, you idiot! Who gave you permission to get your hands on me?”

“You have just invaded the personal space of my dearest sister just seconds ago. Why can’t I take care of yours?”

A whisper was lost in the commotion.

“Dearest sister...?” Morgana allowed herself a grimace of incredibility.

_Was that really her brother? Not seriously. Was it?_

Morgause, who was beside her, looked at him and could see the same question rising in her eyes. They both smiled, beginning to deny the drastic change. He was a robot... not a real man.

“What? It’s stupid!”

The blonde frowned and held the pre-teenager by the collar of his brown jacket. “How dare you!”

“I was just trying to save her life!”

“I don’t believe you. You were looking at us from a distance. How real is the pain in your arm? Perhaps, you were alloyed with that driver... maybe you were looking for a way to please us, to enter our organization. Of course, you thought that saving the dull daughter of a Mafia Leader would put you in a good place of possibilities.”

“Dull!?!” Morgana said indignantly.

“What?! No! Damn! I don’t even know who you are.”

“They are Pendragons, I am a Pendragon.”

Merlin was startled by the intrusion of that strong and demanding voice. Arthur squeezed his lips in a disgruntled grimace and released the boy, pulling away from him.

“Uther Pendragon to be precise... Who wants to know?”

The man with the cane was making his way among the young men who surrounded the prince and Colin. "What is happening here?"

"Merlin?" A man in his mid-forties stared at the blue-eyed brunet. "What are you doing here, boy?"

“I...” Merlin blushed instantly. Father Onorio was in front of him, a few steps from Uther Pendragon.

The blonde smiled as he looked at Colin cursing softly as he stupidly tried to find somewhere to hide or bury his head like an amusing ostrich. He raised an eyebrow. "Your name is Merlin?" He asked, not really asking.

Meanwhile, Morgause had a sudden attack.

No, calm down, nothing serious. She just started laughing, hugging her stomach in front of such a name.

“I... I'm sorry...” She could not help it. That boy was called Merlin and her brother was Arthur... her sister Morgana and... “HAHAHA” Well, let that idiot cousin of hers appear, please, so they could have a whole theater in the middle of the street.

Morgana looked at her sister, swearing and perjuring that at any moment, she would fall dead...laughing.

"Morgause! Your manners.”

"Yes." Morgause swallowed nervously at her father's complaint. "I'm sorry.”

Her eyes sparkled with a lot of fun.

The damsel saved by the young brunet leaped to her father, unable to contain her evident emotion. "You should have seen Merlin, Papa! If you had seen with what skill he acted, even though I was stuck to the ground, without knowing where to go...”

He observed the pressure of his daughter's fingers on his arm, letting a familiar heat enveloping him. Morgana was not one to touch people, especially him. “Stuck?” Uther looked at his eldest son for answers.

Arthur coughed falsely to one side, in an attempt to clear his throat and say the right words. Then, he remembered that he cared very little whether or not they were.

“You see, father...” He smiled cynically, “Morgana stupidly dropped her balloon and ran after it...” His sister sent him a sharp look but he didn’t care. “... Reckless as always” His hands raised, “and without looking where she was going, she crossed the street and a car almost... and here is the point... almost ran her over...if not for this boy and, of course” He quietly added looking back, “because this woman is too stupid and silly…”

“Shut up!”

Morgause tug the dress, silently begging him not to argue. Morgana only snorted, observing.

As he watched the strange girls, he heard a familiar voice behind them.

“Merlin!” Shouted his brother, desperate, trying to cross the street to reach him, on the other side of the sidewalk.

_Well, at least he remembered he existed._

The sound of a dry blow returned Merlin to the previous scene. He looked in surprise and horrified as his prince stumbled and held his left cheek. The cane waved triumphantly in the air.

"I thought I warned you to take care of your sisters."

"They did not..." A second blow on the blond's furious face. The boy's skin was tough but... a reddish color was beginning to stand out on his tanned skin.

Another blow on his right cheek made Merlin frown more than normal. "Enough! Stop!" He gritted his teeth. "You’re an animal! No, worse than that..." He thought.

And just as he was about to shout a few little things to that old man, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was his brother, stopping him, “Do not mess with him.”

"But..."

Gwaine clutched his brother's injured shoulder, surely not knowing that he was wounded. He narrowed his eyes at the pain and bit his lower lip to choke a moan.

"That man," Gwaine whispered confidentially in his ear, "is... let’s say, The Father of the Mafia, Merlin.”

Merlin cursed at his brother in a language that caught Morgause and Morgana’s attention, but in the distance, the two were still involved in fight between father and son.

Merlin moved toward Uther, but Gwaine held him under the armpits and pulled him up against his chest, immobilizing him. “Don’t be stupid” His shoulder hurt again, even more than before. “He will kill you!”

He breathed deeply and in a soft voice, he command, turning his face towards his brother. “Let go”

That golden gleam that Gwaine left engrossed and fearful allowed Merlin to be released immediately.

"Understand this once and for all: that man could kill all of London, just by lifting a thumb…think of our parents."

Surprised by this discovery, he turned his gaze to the blond, who was staring into his eyes. He could almost see a strange light of silent gratitude through his dark and stormy pupils.

Merlin did not know what to make of that attitude. Embarrassed, he looked away.

He grunted. Gwaine was fucking right. Besides, he was just a kid after all.

He hated feeling so helpless.

He stood very still despite the pain he must have felt. Somehow, Arthur felt a little cheerful that that boy had tried to confront his father, even after listening that they were Mafia. He understood he wanted to protect himself, but he saw the doubt of leaving him alone in that fight. Arthur hoped with all his crushed heart he would interfere more. His father was not benevolent. Their adversaries were not discriminated by race, color or age... if you faced Uther, you faced death.

His doubts were clear when he noticed that the boy had no interest in pleasing someone like his father.

He spat the blood that escaped from his split lip, keeping his smile and haughty look. His father was angry, but those blows were the mildest he had suffered so far.

He considered himself a resilient man, not out of vanity, but a woman had broken his heart for only a few hours, and yet he had not shown his grief at that betrayal.

His father gives him another blow; this time with his fist to his stomach, but he didn’t fall on the floor, no. He stood and stared at the man he called Uther, offered himself for more blows.

“Do not stop, I know it's not the best you have.”

He denied his son's sadism, “You know I hate to hit you, Arthur, but that's the only way you understand that I command you.”

“It will happen again...” He stands straight and looked with pride at the man standing in front of him. “Father” The blonde's voice was almost hoarse. “And, I, I invite you to hit me all you want, I will not stop being what I am.... Neither you what you are...” And anyone noticed that he was also gritting his teeth, perhaps not to bite his tongue with rage.

The man did not seem happy with just that… He uncovered the tip of his cane, which seemed to fulfill two functions, at least, that what the steel blade on the top seemed to mean.

The sisters took their hands; the young bodyguard only remained in place, like pieces of chess.

Father Onorio was serious about the matter.

Gwaine did not seem surprised, only uncomfortable.

Merlin shuddered, but the blond looked more relaxed than before.

Uther held the blade at the neck of his own son. "Do not risk looking for other ways to discipline yourself, Arthur” He sighed and moved the tip from the neck. He hit his shoulder with its back a couple of times. “You are stubborn, as much or more than me; therefore, you should know the extent of my patience”

The man camouflages his weapon again, and in a blink, had the cane hanging from his forearm. He took off his black gloves and threw them at his footman. “Let's go!”

“But ...Papa! He saved me” Morgana was annoyed to leave her rescuer like that, without even thanking him properly.

Uther, who was already heading for the limousine, turned and looked at Merlin. "Are you interested in being part of our organization?" He was not exactly asking.

“Of Butchers?” The brunet didn’t see the half smile that escaped between the lips of the blond. “No thanks”

The man looked at Merlin with obvious disgust and then he smiled. That gesture scared the brunet.

_Why had he smiled at him? Those guys were all crazy._

“You think...” he said, “for me it's fine.”

_What? but..._

"No." Merlin tried to look as serious and credible as he could.

“Say what you say, I feel you’ll end up with us, "The butchers"” Again he showed that nasty smile. “someday... Someday, I'm sure.”

The man got lost inside the limestone.

“Thank you” Morgana kissed his cheek, “for saving me...” She whispered, “... my angel...”

“Huh?” he said, confused and she ran out among shy laughter in search of her father.

Merlin touched his cheek, a little flushed. It was the first time a girl who was not family showed her appreciation that way.

Morgause raised her hands and waved her fingers in a childish greeting.

She turned her back on him and then took two steps, stopped and hesitated for a few seconds. She turned and returned in a blink to where Merlin was. She put the balloon in his hand, smiled and left, leaving a stunned Merlin watching as the little blonde ran to the limo.

"Ahhh!" He shrieked as someone tugged at his wrist of the hand holding the balloon, the one attached to his wounded shoulder.

“Fuck!” Opening his eyes, closed because of the pain, he discovered he was almost touching the blond's nose, who had leaned toward him. His small mouth opened like a fish gasping underwater. He jumped instantly, taking a step back, but the older boy didn’t free him.

“We will meet again” Arthur assured him with deep voice, “You can bet on it.”

“Hey! Release my brother.”

Arthur looked angrily at the brown haired man. Gwaine lost his courage, as he looked into those devil eyes.

Merlin, on the other hand, observed the bruises on the handsome face of that prince with frowning brows.

He jumped and was eye-widened, when he noticed that the prince's hands were holding him roughly by the collar of his shirt and raised him from the ground, since he was not yet very tall, only thirteen years old.

“I'll be watching you.”

That was the promise or design of a disaster to come...

As they walked toward home, Merlin did not feel his body, or even the wound on his shoulder, nothing. His legs moved inward, and his sweaty hands couldn’t stop moving.

"Don’t worry” He jumped and looked at his brother walking beside him, "People like him have no interest in losers like us, Merlin.” He placed one of his cold hands on his brother's cheek. “There is no fever," He said almost to himself. “You will heal yourself.” He stroked his hair and watched a girl walking in the opposite direction, so he started to walk backwards, watching her go. He whistled and continued the talk with his younger brother. "He'll forget everything tomorrow or maybe in a few hours."

“Do you really think that?”

He sank down, dismissing its importance. "Sure.”

However…

Gwaine had been mistaken, because a Pendragon never forgets... and Arthur had fulfilled his threat, because from a distance Merlin had felt him watching him.

“So, what are you insinuating?”

“That you got Camelot and now you want me to be included in the deal, because I am the son of the woman that rejected your father thirty years ago. It sounds like a good revenge, taking me as your servant and have my brother in your hands. Do you want to prove something to your father?” Colin spoke firmly, challenging him with his gaze. "Is it this, Mr. Pendragon? You have money, and now you want to become something bigger... No matter what you think of your father, he was born a gentleman from an impressive lineage; even if he died, he’d still be the most powerful man in London. You want to be better than that.”

“Do you think I am trying to reverse the order of the factors... that is, that since I was born in poverty, now I want to become the new wolf of London? That I want to beat my father at his own game?”

“Yes I think so.”

“By making you my servant?”

“I'm not a fortune teller.”

Arthur could not help but laugh at the brunet's wit.

Colin ignored how his chest contracted and suppressed his heart that wanted to escape through his mouth. Surely, he was hearing badly. That smile accompanied by that laugh was only an illusion.

"So, to achieve what I aspire to, I set a trap for your brother?"

"You wouldn’t have got it any other way."

"Be careful..." Merlin felt an electric current in his cheek, "I am a man with many cards up his sleeve... I have my methods...don’t forget it" When the blond's fingers stroked him, he shuddered and cursed his body for that.

"I won’t. So did you or didn’t you set a trap to my brother?"

"I feel too accused by your eyes to answer you."

"Wasn’t it like that?"

"Let's just say... I took a risk."

A sigh shook Colin. The truth was not always pleasant, but at least now he knew.

"Do you find the prospect that disturbing?" As he spoke, he had placed his warm, strong hands inside Colin's jacket, resting them on his hips. "Don’t you see any advantage? You wouldn’t have to work for that fake future teller anymore, nor it’d be necessary for you to wear the same clothes until they’re out of fashion. On the contrary, you’d be my right hand at Camelot, and I wouldn’t have to inform the police about your brother’s crime. I think the sentence for that crime is quite severe... yours, with me, will be much more benign"

With deliberate movements, he took off his denim jacket and looked brazenly at the first open buttons of his shirt, which, clinging to his slender body, made him a rather tempting piece of meat for the hungry lion inside the blond.

"You have the refinement and the appearance of an angel, a very handsome one, _Colin_" He laughed mockingly at seeing him move uncomfortably and trying to say something, but the words were choked in his throat and Arthur was eager to seek them with his tongue. "And since I am a rich man, who can afford the best, I have chosen you. Do you remember the first time we met?"

"Yes," He replied, "I mistook you for a prince, who ended up being Lucifer himself."

His eyes narrowed when Colin said that, and as if to punish him most effectively, he drew him closer to him with his arms around him; his burning breath brushed his cheek.

"I warn you, my dear Merlin, every blow of yours will be rewarded with a kiss, and you don’t like the idea of me kissing you, do you?"

Colin looked at him, tense and defiant... From the day he'd seen him exiting that limo, he'd been hiding in the shadows of his life, waiting patiently, planning the moment when he would end up trapped in his arms.

Because deep inside him, he was telling him their destinies were joined together...

"Do I have to... surrender to you?" He uttered these words in a barely audible voice. "I'm not interested... in men"

"Do you suggest any other solution?"

Damn it!

He was not a fucking homophobic, nor did he have a definite sexual orientation, since he knew almost nothing about romance. The women he had dated... always ended up running away from him. A small glance in those blue eyes made him understand why...

Although.

He had to admit that this man seemed very handsome... but from there to, ah...No!...No...No. No, he could not... but if he didn’t... his brother...

"I ... I have no experience in these matters, Mr. Pendragon, but if you want to... bed me."

The words came out with an effort, then he remained silent for a moment, which Colin broke when the claws of this enraged Lion seemed to almost break his hip.

"Never," Arthur said, gritting his teeth, "never speak to me like that again.”

He looked up to meet those bright eyes. He had finally provoked his anger. His heart throbbed as he realized that this hard English had the moral principles that made his mother shut up for months away from her town when she learned that she was carrying the son of a stranger.

"Gwaine and I have lived in hell since you entered our lives," he reproached him angrily.

His answer was to fulfill the threat he had made and it was useless to try to push him away.

Colin was practically attacked by the blond, leaving him totally surprised. He would have never believed he would do it for real. His strength made him feel helpless. The muscles in his arms were like steel around his weak body, and Merlin’s mouth became the helpless vessel of an impetuous kiss. Colin did not know how to respond to the caresses of a man, even if he had wanted to...

None of the women he had met had made him want to experience what was happening at this moment. None of these young women, expert or not, had managed to break his defenses.

Instead, this man had defeated him, holding him very close to him with one hand placed at his lower back and pressing him against his firm muscles and the heat of his body. Arthur let go of his mouth and his lips were now searching the soft curves of his neck, and the more Colin tried to avoid his lips, the more insistent they became.

Well, let him kiss him... let him take him... he will never make him feel anything. Nope! Nothing, except contempt for the trap he had set for Gwaine, for the tricks he had used with him.

He didn’t resist, knowing that the hunter enjoyed his prey’s torment.

The blond pulled away from him, leaving his warm breath on his skin.

"You could be made of ice," He said quietly.

"Did you expect me to surrender to your caresses?" He teased him. "I told you, I'm not interested in men..."

"Give me time, baby. We English are famous for our insistence."

"And what is your Italian heritage famous for?" Being so close, Colin could see the prominent bones of his face beneath the tanned skin. Just looking at him and feeling his warmth, he felt weak.

_How could he stop such a man from getting what he wanted? _

As Gwaine had said... The Pendragons always got what they wanted.

"What do you want from us?" He could not resist asking the question.

"You'll know soon enough, okay?"

"You're quite sure of yourself, aren’t you, Mr. Pendragon?"

"I suggest you call me Arthur, now that we know each other more intimately."

Colin's eyes flashed with rebellion.

"If I knew another way to free Gwaine from your claws, then you wouldn’t be allowed to put your hands on me."

"It would be such a pity," He lowered his hands, caressing his sides, covered with rough cloth. "I like what I feel, that you are a boy who has protected his body. As I said, the English don’t usually care or marry those who have given themselves to others... My mother's life was unhappy because she didn’t know how to master her desires"

"You're forgetting I'm not a woman, but it seems like history will repeat itself," He trembled at the feel of his touch, and his modesty was offended by the liberties the blond was taking on his body, as if he were already taking possession of him.

Arthur arched an inquiring eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Naturally, I am a man like you."

"No" He was irritated, always was when he had to explain himself, "Not that... that history will repeat itself"

"Because I expect to become as unhappy as your mother was. You can’t really think I feel something for you, right?"

"Of course not, but you feel a lot of affection for Gwaine and that old man... Gaius, right? I'll definitely find what makes you happy."

"Are you kidding me?" His eyes revealed anguish. "Just leave us alone."

"No. That would be stupid..." He released him to lean and study the calendar on the desk. "I think I'll have time to marry you in a couple of months… is that all right with you?"

Colin was stunned. This was not a joke, even if it seemed so. It was as real as the rain striking the windows, as real as the smell of smoke when Arthur lit a cigar and parted the curtains to watch the night.

"You are serious..."

"I'll take you home," He said.

"No, I can take a taxi or just walk..."

"I insist."

His silhouette was projected onto the dark red cloth, exactly as when he had entered his office an hour earlier. It had happened so much in that hour. The blond had taken over his life... Merlin couldn’t describe it any other way.

"You really want me to marry you, don’t you?" The words he uttered seemed almost unreal, and yet they were more important than anything he had ever said.

"You have another choice," He said.

"That's a lie!"

Arthur shrugged and the smoke of the cigar came out through his well-delineated nose.

"To get what you want in this life you must be determinate, and no one can change our personality. Your brother would have been a winner and not a loser, if he had bothered to study his opponents. Enclosed in himself and selfish to the core"

"Maybe it's a family trait," Colin replied. "Don’t be too sure that I'm not using this to earn your fortune. After all, you even blamed me to trying to get into your family for my personal interest..."

"If you were pursuing my fortune, you would have accepted my father's offer six years ago, when you saved Morgana."

"Maybe at the time I did not know that living in poverty could be boring. Maybe I hadn’t realized that buying a second hand coat is not as enjoyable as having a rich man buying it for me"

Arthur's eyes moved over his denim jacket.

"The only family feature you share with your brother is the color. You'll be charming in a champagne-colored mink coat," He laughed. "We will fly to Argentina to get married, because I could never do it any faster."

Well, the matter was settled.

"How commanding you are!" Colin despised every part of his powerful body, every blond hair on his head, every thought that crossed his mind as he glanced at him. "I guess buying and selling people is easy for an Englishman. I see you don’t care about the fact you're buying me."

He shook his head slowly. "You're worth every penny I’ve paid, baby. You're a great deal for the price."

"Bastard!" Colin was afraid at seeing the cynicism that was reflected in his eyes. "You are the living proof that the devil takes care of his own!"

"Who knows? Maybe he sired me." Arthur laughed hoarsely, "The ancient gods and satyrs are said to roam the mountains, and by the expression in your eyes, it is obvious you are wondering when you’ll see my hooves."

"I... I hope you’ll keep your word when it comes to my brother."

"An Englishman never gets back to his word, Colin. A deal is a deal."

"Looks like we are talking business!"

"Would you like me to say passionate words to you? Would you like me to tell you that you remind me of that strange, white plant that floats in the ponds of the garden?"

Colin stared at the face that was very similar to the one the British had coined on their old coins. The perfect knot of his gray tie stood out on the collar of his shirt; his suit, which looked like a soft armor over his body, matched the same shade of gray. He was not handsome, because that sweet word was used by magazines for movie stars.

Arthur Pendragon was an impressive man.

"I want to go home," he murmured, "I need to be alone."

"I'll take you." But he didn’t move for a few moments, and again Colin felt trapped in the ocean of his eyes. His gaze made him nervous.

He went to the door, moving the latch, but without success.

"The door opens only when I press a button under my desk."

Colin stood at the door as Arthur headed for his desk, where he turned off his cigar in a glass ashtray.

"I'm going to take you home, Colin, so stop being so nervous, acting like you want to escape."

"If only I could!"

"And let Gwaine suffer in jail?" He pressed the button, "Merlin... you can go, I won’t stop you. Escape and you will be free of your commitments. It’s very simple”

He stared at the door and his first instinct was to do exactly as he had suggested. _Why didn’t he?_ Gwaine wasn’t worthy of his sacrifice. He was a selfish, foolish man, who was sure that he would defend him to the end, at any cost.

But hidden in the adult he had become, was the brown-haired boy with whom he used to play in the field, to ride on horseback, and to fish in streams.

"Aren’t you going?"

"You...said you'd take me home."

Colin lifted the collar of his jacket, which covered half his face, and preceded Pendragon down the stairs and out into the street, where the pavement was wet because of the rain.

He shivered in the cold night wind and felt the rain on his face as he watched a luxurious car emerge from the garage next to the club.

The door opened and Colin slipped into the car, indulging in the luxurious feeling of the leather, as he leaned back in his seat.

"The seat belt," He murmured.

He obeyed, feeling bound in many ways.

"Has it ever occurred to you that some things are inevitable?" Arthur looked at him briefly before driving the car to the avenue. "Ask that fortune-teller of yours"

"His name is Gaius, and there is no need to be ironic."

"Who is being ironic? Why do you think I named my club _Camelot_? There is a strong tendency to be superstitious among the British"

"You should have called it _Machiavellian Club_."

He heard his usual laugh, brief and hoarse, and said nothing more.

Colin watched the steady movements of the windscreen cleaners pushing the rain away, which instantly covered it again.

He decided that he would consult Gaius... perhaps his stars might reveal to him, at the last moment, some way of helping Gwaine without becoming Pendragons’ property.

Like Camelot, he would only turn into one more of his possessions, another symbol of status of the Italian businessman, a mobster, who does what he wants...

"What a deep sigh!" He said.

“Tonight has been something different, don’t you think?"

The Jaguar stopped in front of the tall building where Colin had his little flat.

"I’m... not going to invite you in." He could not loosen his seatbelt because his hands were shaking. "I need to be alone."

"Merlin." His firm hands settled on his shoulders. "We have to make plans for the wedding, so we'll have to see each other again soon. We’ll have dinner together. I'm free on Thursday evening"

"You seem very sure I am free as well."

"And it isn’t the case?" Arthur’s eyes examined his pallor, and his heart-shaped mouth had a very attractive look. Suddenly he leaned in and his mouth brushed Colin's, "Don’t shiver so much, baby!”

"If you expect passion, you're going to be very disappointed. I... I don’t feel that way"

"Everything is possible." His voice was mocking. "I'll call you about the date, and I'd like you to be available. If your boss needs you, you'll tell him you're already engaged."

Colin felt these words hurt him.

"Please, let me go… I'm tired."

"Well then, at least you can rest easy as far as your brother is concerned. I'm not going to send him to prison."

His hands let him go and Colin disappeared into the cold, rainy night. He could still feel his arms as he ran up the stairs leading to the front door of the building. The car did not move until he was inside.

_He's unbearable, arrogant and impolite_ thought Merlin as he leaned against the door of his apartment.

His little black kitten moved between his feet and scratched her owner's jeans to get his attention. But Colin was too busy getting angry with the blond to think about anything else.

He moved away from the door and sighed. He took Freya in his arms and led her to the kitchen for some milk. As soon as he opened the refrigerator door, he felt a presence in the house.

He noticed that his brother was lying on the couch.

Gwaine straightened up, followed by the younger man. "You’ve slept with Pendragon, I suppose."

"What?" _How dare his brother ask him that?_

Wait a moment…

"You knew!"

The situation was disastrous for both brothers. Judging by what Merlin saw at his brother's feet and by the smell that emanated so strongly from him, he had been consuming more alcohol in the last hours than water in all his life.

Merlin was beginning to suspect he shouldn’t have woken up in the morning.

But the worst came, ten minutes later, with both of them on the roof of the apartment.


	3. Mi jefe, mi salvador

Colin didn’t know what would have become of him if his boss hadn’t come to inspect or better said to find out in what troubles his little apprentice was involved, given the strange way he had canceled their dinner together.

He appreciated that intuition in the older man and sighed when he saw his brother on the floor. Really pathetic.

He wondered since when the man who complained about loading boxes at the store counter had become so strong... that punch had been surprising; his brother never saw it coming... Colin must remember not to forget that detail in the future. Gaius had a good right.

The great Gwaine was now laying on the floor after a psychotic attack, where his nerves had carried him away. A few minutes before, pointing and pushing him up the stairs leading to the roof, his beloved and stupid brother had babbled he would rather throw Merlin from the roof than knowing him in bed with that man.

Well, Gwaine should have thought about it before stealing his money.

Colin and Gaius moved Gwaine to bed and then checked he was unconscious... and not dead.

They decided to leave him there. His condition was more due to the bottles than that punch. A good hit. He deserved it.

The handcuffs glittered and Merlin wondered once again where his boss found those things. He shook his head, remembering his new bigger problems.

Then, they went to his boss’s shop, which was a few blocks from his house.

Merlin walked into the store, following in the footsteps of his silent boss. Gaius gave him one last look before ducking into the back.

Merlin was shaking due to the mental chaos he was suffering: his brother had attempted on his life. Things were getting out of hand.

He took a deep breath, listening to the sound of his own heart.

Colin had always been fascinated by the room where Gaius consulted the crystal ball. The ceiling was decorated with the signs of the zodiac. The balance of Libra predominated though. Colin had asked him why it was so, and Gaius had replied that life itself was on balance. In each person there was a measure of good and bad; in each destiny there was fortune and misfortune. At times, the balance was clearly inclined to one side or another, and this dictated the course of that person's life.

"But isn’t this just an assumption?" Colin had asked on that occasion. "Aren’t we the ones who shape our lives, for better or for worse?”

"Never say that to a clairvoyant," His chief had replied haughtily. "We know, better than most, that our lives have to follow a certain course, although along the way we can make decisions that oppose the magnetic force that controls us, and we suffer because we have chosen wrong."

Colin was younger then, and a newbie in Gaius’s work field, so he had listened with skepticism to these things. However, after two years, he had changed his mind about those who believed in astrology, the reading of the hand and the letters of the Tarot.

There was one thing that Gaius had never used or mentioned, and that was the Ouija. He said it was bad: an artifact that led to dark places.

The crystal ball of his boss was of beryl, not clear glass, and was placed on a special base on a table covered with a white tablecloth. The base was of ivory and engraved with some strange names and symbols; the table was circular and was placed on a pentacle of five stars embedded in the ground. On the table was a pair of old candlesticks, and in the far corner of the room, the incense burned and had a relaxing effect.

These magic tricks helped create an atmosphere that would help customers believe in predictions and at the same time arouse curiosity. Colin didn’t doubt his boss possessed powers that impressed… perhaps it was a combination of extrasensory perception and a gift for persuasion.

His figure was very helpful to him. He was tall, funny, a handsome middle-aged man, and he was almost always dressed in a long rope. Jade green beaded necklaces and amulets around his neck made him look like an exotic sorcerer. His elongated face and moon-like hair gave him great charm. Over the years, Colin had come to appreciate him and to enjoy his work with Sir Gaius.

However, he had never asked him to read his fate in the Tarot cards, on which surface strange and beautiful drawings appeared. He was sure that nothing in his life could be more disastrous than finding out that his life and that of his brother had fallen into the hands of a blond stranger and that they would no longer have the right to take care of themselves.

Colin had never met any mixed-breed like him, half Italian and half English, and for that, he seemed so enigmatic and mysterious. When the lawyer pronounced his name, it seemed to him the strangest one he had ever heard.

Now it seemed to him an outrage that the new owner of Camelot said they had to live together as husbands.

Husbands…

The word echoed and appeared in his mind with a relentless and devastating force.

"I can’t!" He exclaimed aloud.

"Did you say something, dear?" Gaius entered the room, his necklaces making a noise as they struck his chest.

He wondered like a man like him had never married or at least fallen into thousands of adventures in bed, finding out the sensations that reading cards could not give you... According to who you asked, Gaius had always been a man too transparent and not passionate towards another human being.

Colin turned to face him. His face was absent-minded. The moment he heard the bells of the Big Ben ringing through the window, he decided to test the powers of perception of his boss.

He stood with his chin held high as the green eyes of the clairvoyant wandered the pale lightness of his skin and discovered the purple spots that surrounded his eyes.

"Darling, something seems to trouble you."

"Why do you say that, Sir?"

Colin needed help and advice, though in earlier times, his shyness would have kept him from seeking them. He had faced and overcome other worries and anxieties, but now he felt he was facing a situation he could not resolve on his own.

"I can see it clearly, Merlin." Gaius approached him and took his hands. "Your skin is as cold as ice, and that is a clear sign of a deep anguish. It has to do with your brother, doesn’t it?

"Yes." Colin shuddered, "I'm afraid so."

"And it's something you need to clear up without delay. That brother of yours is the "Rascal" that comes out on your cards, dear Merlin. The day I met him, I knew he would attract the devil. "

Colin caught his breath, and did not resist when Gaius led him to the table where the beryl ball was covered in white silk. He sat down while his boss lit the candles in the golden candlesticks and ran the curtains to hide the spring sun.

"It is not necessary to consult my ball; this helps me think. I want to give you the best advice"

The sorcerer sat down and uncovered the sphere, which he washed every night with an infusion of herbs and vinegar to make it shine in the candlelight.

The clairvoyant never deceived Merlin by telling him he saw images on the ball. What he did when he looked into it was to create an atmosphere of self-hypnosis. It was a form of meditation, and Colin had witnessed some curious revelations that often sent guests home in a state of euphoria. He did not expect euphoria, but he needed to be told how to deal with the demon that Gwaine had conjured.

Arthur had possessed his life and he needed to be told how to get rid of him.

"As you have worked with me for some time," he said with his gaze fixed on the ball, "I know very well that your brother, Gwaine, has caused you many anguish you have solved in silence. But this is different, isn’t it? Tell me about this strange man"

Colin was so startled that he felt his heart beating hard against his chest.

"How do you know that?"

"Let’s just say that I know, dear child. Describe the man."

"Do you mean his physical appearance?"

"No, give me an idea of his personality."

"Well, Sir, let's say that if I kicked him in the heart, I would break my foot!"

"I see." Gaius shot him a glare, "Is he that bad?"

"I think so," Colin said.

"You don’t have any good points, is that what you're trying to tell me, Merlin?"

"Well, not quite."

"You mean he's someone you'd call evil?"

"Oh, no!" For some reason Merlin felt the suggestion very unpleasant.

"But obviously he has some power over you, am I right?"

Colin inclined his head. He supposed it would be easier to tell his nice boss everything. He hoped he did not have that strange fan with which he used to beat him close by. Interestingly, he wanted to continue the farce of this reading. He began with the meeting at the Camelot Club, the audacity of Arthur Pendragon when he told him that he had to marry him.

He felt as if he were living a strange dream... one of those dreams in which one is lost and cannot find the way out to reality.

"Let me see." Gaius turned his green eyes to the sparkling sphere, and his face seemed to be expressionless as he let his mind wander. There was silence in the room. His boss's apartment was so close to Westminster that the Big Ben was his watch.

Colin watched him, and felt his heartbeat. Now he understood why people came to expose their problems to someone like that man. A little magic helped when you did not know where to go.

"Your brother has a debt to this man. You have to pay for it."

Colin put his hands to his face. "How do you know, sir?" He moaned.

"They should call me Sherlock Holmes, don’t you think?" He replied, his voice amused.

Colin smiled.

"After two years with you, I should not be so surprised, yet you've never read my fate before."

"Darling, maybe it's because the fate of those young and attractive is on their faces, in front of everyone to see. How does that man want you to pay him?"

"How did you... guess that, sir?"

"It's very simple, my dear Merlin. You have a charming but weak brother who works in a gambling business. No doubt cards were going to put him in serious trouble one day, but he always knew you would rescue him. When you tried, you have encountered a problem that has put you through a sleepless night. It is clear in young people when they have not slept well. I did not have to think much."

Gaius concealed the fact he had always been attentive, along with Father Onorio, given that man's obsession with Merlin.

Arthur Pendragon had been in his shop only a few weeks before, observing without actually observing his countless antiquities and pretending to be only passing by. The blond had admitted his interest in getting his hands on his apprentice. Unobtrusively. He had demanded Gaius to forget about him by placing a few gold bags on one of his decorative scales.

Gaius had simply ignored him and seen him out with a fake smile.

He paused and stared into Colin's eyes.

Yes. Well, he was twenty years older than the boy. He had to admit long ago he had fallen in love with his charm, his youth and his interest in knowing more about the unknown. It reminded him of his youth. If only he had a few years less.... no.

Gaius knew what the stars and the whole universe was telling him. That boy had a destiny ahead of him and it wasn’t at his side.

"What does he want from you? To make love to you?" He shuddered at the tenderness he felt when he saw the blush on his apprentice after that question.

"More than that," Colin answered hoarsely. "He says I have to marry him, otherwise my brother would go to jail. Gwaine is terrified and I don’t know what to do... I'm going crazy."

"Is this a very large amount?"

Colin told Gaius how much embezzlement Gwaine had made in the club but, for some mysterious reason, he couldn’t tell him the name of the man who had fixed the price of the ransom in his office above the club, immobilizing him with those stormy eyes, whose glances expressed the certainty that Colin could do nothing but accept his offer.

"So, he's using emotional blackmail?"

Colin nodded.

"And yet you said he isn’t a bad person."

"No. He believes in a fair punishment, and he can afford to forgive the amount Gwaine stole from him, as long as he gets me in return."

Gaius remained silent for a moment, playing with his rings with large gemstones.

"Is he a stranger to you, my dear?"

"Not entirely,"

Colin recalled tanned skin, the white shirt, the gray tie, the strong wrists covered with blond hair, contrasting with the white cuffs and the pure gold ovals of the cufflinks. But his mind only remembered the good points: he had been polite, had a lot of style, and had doubled his life to his will. He had made his way into the world without becoming presumptuous, and without having acquired, like others, that silly air of greatness... but all those good qualities could not counteract the destructive ones… forcing him to marry him when love had no place in the contract.

"You say not quite." Gaius interrupted his thoughts, "Is he not completely unknown to you?"

Colin shook his head.

"Aren’t you going to explain to me a little more, my dear?" Pretending to be a fool was a quality or gift that he had acquired over the years. "Don’t you want to tell me his name?"

"I'd rather not."

"I'd recognize his name, wouldn’t I?"

"Maybe, Gaius."

"Very well, Colin. I will respect your desire to keep his name a secret. That means that he is, perhaps, an important...figure?"

"His name sometimes appears in the papers," Colin said. _In the drug and unsolved murders section..._

"In relation to business?"

"Yes."

"So he's older than you, isn’t he? Is that why you don’t like the idea of marrying him?"

"It is not that he is that older than me, what happens is that I don’t want to marry a man, a man..."

"Ah! We get to the heart of the problem." Gaius leaned back in his chair and his face was hidden in the shadows, only the gleam of his penetrating eyes was visible.

“HE IS A MAN! FOR GOD'S SAKE"

"Today is a natural thing..."

“I'm not gay.”

"Don’t put tags, Merlin, love is not the same for all... maybe it's your destiny."

"No offense... he's not my type, and with respect to love...I don’t love him. Fate can fuck itself. I may have to give myself up..." He swallow hard. "But I would never give my heart to a bastard like him."

"Sometimes…"

"No, I will not want nor love him, not even if he were to become the very God of love.”

"Darling, your whole being indicates you are a romantic, and that is why your weak brother takes advantage of your sensitivity. You certainly remember him from when he was a mischievous child with a dirty face. But what you must accept now is that he has become an unprincipled young man, who should be sent to the colonies, if we still had them, where he would fall into dishonor without involving his family. That was done in the old days and sometimes worked... Or you could hang him yourself... I would do it"

Gaius was silent for a few minutes, and Colin watched the flame of the candles casting their light upon the beryl ball.

What Gaius was going to suggest began to trickle through his mind, but _where would he get the money to get Gwaine out of the country?_

"You can borrow it, Merlin," he said, reading his thoughts. "You go to a well-known loan house and apply for a cash loan. You sign a contract and pay an interest for the money. Many people do it, my dear boy. It's just money and...you won’t have to get married!"

"I can’t"

Colin flinched, remembering the huge debts they got after his father's unfortunate death.

"If you don’t want to borrow it, Colin, then you know the other alternative."

"I... could defy him, couldn’t I?" Merlin said without believing for a moment he could get away from that man.

"A man who would break your foot if you kicked his heart, dear?"

Colin bit his lip until it hurt.

"I know a bank that will treat you justly," He continued. "You don’t have to be embarrassed, I did it when I started working as a clairvoyant, and I was determined to do it my way. I'm not a cheater, you know that, but customers are impressed with a bit of mysticism, and I wanted to establish my business with all the requirements demanded by the kind of clients I wanted. It was an expensive procedure and I did not have a single penny. A friend recommended me the bank that I’ve mentioned. I found them discreet in the terms of payment of the loan, and were not abusive with the interest"

He bent and looked at Colin carefully.

"It would be the lesser of the two evils: this man you don’t want to marry, and the brother who causes you such anguish. You have to live your own life, and none of them will be in position to give you orders."

"But I've never borrowed money in my life," Colin protested, not convinced and very frightened. "Suppose I cannot make the payments?"

"Well, those are nonsense, Merlin." Gaius looked a little offended. "You have an excellent job here, and I pay you a good salary. Of course you can cope with the payments. As I have been saying, this bank, in particular, has an unblemished reputation and my name will support your loan application"

"A man doesn’t have to be married to go to one of those places?" Colin asked.

"Not now, my dear child. You're... so innocent, Damn it.... What a cruel audacity! Your youth and innocence in exchange of that devil of your brother. He must be a monster, even though you, generously, deny it.”

"He is a man who is accustomed to negotiate," Colin observed.

He saw in his mind the menacing image of his face with storm-colored eyes; the face of a warrior that acquired businessmen, that especially enjoyed battles, and is a merciless winner.

"And he thinks he's made a good deal with you?"

Colin made a gesture of contempt.

"I'm not a good business... he knows how I feel about him and it's nothing to boast about."

"That will not matter to him if he's as severe as you say." Gaius looked at his hands on the table. "In this situation you will become a slave and the whip he will use is reminding you that he bought you with the money that your brother stole from you. You will never feel proud again, do you realize that?"

"Of course I do!" Colin slid his hand over the hair that seemed to weigh on his aching head. "I feel like I'm trapped in a nightmare, as if this is not real, and yet it is."

"That's why I never take from my clients the belief that the devil is among us, always ready to unleash hell. I perceive very clearly that this man is an outlander, because I see he surrounds you in a dark aura, Colin, that of a being who projects big black shadows. You must not fall into his power, do you hear me? You would be lost."

"Please," Colin was frightened, "don’t tell me that."

"It's for your own good, my dear child. You are a young man who needs to be loved, not "possessed". Slavery disappeared from the Western world with Abraham Lincoln."

"So what do I do? He wants my answer on Thursday evening."

"This is what you will do."

Gaius stood and went to the big, old piece of furniture where he kept an old box. He opened it and took out a series of business cards with names, addresses and telephones. At last, he found what he was looking for, and gave Colin a card that had its ends slightly bent and smelled of the dust that had accumulated from the abandonment box. Surely appropriate not to draw attention.

"Find this person," he said. "Take the afternoon off, Merlin, and ask for enough money so that you can pay the ship's ticket that will take your brother to Australia. That's a tough country, and maybe it will help him become a man. Get a ticket for yourself too; otherwise, he may spend the money. It must be by boat, because the plane arrives at its destination very soon and from what you have told me, this powerful man may have several airports monitor to surprise your brother when he arrives. He'd catch him again and that's what you want to avoid, isn't it, dear boy?"

Colin nodded and stared at the card with the name of the loan house.

He disliked the idea of borrowing money.

However, what his boss had suggested might be the solution to save Gwaine and himself.

Gwaine would be thrilled. He would do anything to avoid arrest and imprisonment, and although Arthur Pendragon was likely to check the passenger lists of the ships that sailed and ask the captain to arrest his stupid brother, Colin had the feeling he would not.

He knew instinctively he had no interest in seeing Gwaine behind bars. Arthur was interested in Merlin's soul, life, body, and Gwaine's bad behavior had given him a chance to catch him.

"You are doubting, Merlin," Gaius murmured.

"I have no choice, do I?" He pressed the card between his fingers.

"You'll kill two birds with one stone, dear."

Colin nodded.

If Gwaine was going to Australia, he might have good luck, but above all, he could not cause him any more anguish, as he was doing now. He would be far from England, and so he could finally tell Arthur Pendragon what he could do with his fucking marriage proposal.

He felt nostalgia and pain at the thought of losing another member of his family; after all, his brother was just a fool with no luck.

Colin stood up.

"I'm going to do it," he said. "It's better to be involved with these people than... with the man I told you about; they cannot be more ruthless than him."

"That's the way, Merlin," said Sir Gaius, nodding. "Now make us some coffee while I call P & O to ask if there is a ship going to Australia or any other distant place and how much a simple cabin would cost. That brother of yours has caused you too much trouble."

"Am I doing the right thing?" Colin still looked worried.

"So it is written in your destiny!" Exclaimed the clairvoyant.


	4. Cuando el gato atrapa al ratón..., ¿tiene cien años de perdón?

The phone rang with insistence and Colin felt his nerves respond to the sound by getting tense. He had just gotten out of the tub, and ran to the phone while he strapped on the belt of his bathrobe.

"Hello!"

"Here _Diavolo d’oro_ speaking, Mr. Colin Morgan. The CEO wants to talk to you."

Colin felt his heart beating violently in his chest. _Diavolo d’oro_ was the bank he had borrowed a few hundred pounds from, a loan which he was granted for having named Gaius as guarantor.

The contract he signed stipulated that he would pay monthly and, for his peace of mind, the payments were not too burdensome.

"Is something wrong?" Colin suddenly felt a chill and wrapped his bathrobe more tightly around his body.

"You seem nervous." The voice sounded grave, rough, and had a foreign accent.

He felt his legs weakening and sought support on the edge of the telephone table.

"I hope you didn’t faint."

Colin stared at the receiver... it was not possible that two men could speak in the same tone and in the same way. But the clerk had clearly told him that the CEO of _Diavolo d’oro_ wanted to talk to him.

"Who am I talking to?" He asked, almost breathless.

"I'm not flattered that you don’t even recognize my voice, Mer, especially when we have such a special relationship."

_Arthur Pendragon? It couldn’t be!_

"In person," he said, guessing his thoughts.

"...you are the CEO of _Diavolo d'oro_?" He asked at last.

"Never doubt it, as it is said in this country."

"Oh no!"

"_Diavolo_, my dear, translated from Italian, means _Devil_, and if you had been more interested in classical literature at that exclusive school at Beacon Hill, you would have known it."

_How did he know that?_

"Not that I think I look like Lucifer himself, but it's part of my personality, according to you. What an irony of fate that you have chosen my company to borrow the money you need to keep your brother from falling into my hands, don’t you think?"

At least Gwaine was out of reach, because fortunately there was a problem with the ship of the P & O company toward Singapore and Gaius disgustedly accepted that opportunity to relieve him of his problems and to punish his elder brother with all the weight of his own law.

Now Merlin didn’t have the slightest idea where that pair was. But he trusted his boss. The years at his service had shown him the kind of person he was. He would entrust him with his own life and that of his brother without hesitation.

Now more than ever.

The loan money was given to Gaius for his brother's expenses. He had to keep him away, so he would not be fooled. Then he would send the money back to Merlin in some safe way.

It had not mattered at all that Gwaine had had to humiliate his principles by apologizing while holding onto his legs, asking for pity and mercy when he had seen that Gaius would take care of him.

Merlin had crossed his arms and looked away. Desperate. His brother had even taken the liberty to weep painfully on his arm, kiss his hand and call him "little monkey" like when they were children. He had almost forgiven all his indulgences, but a look of indignation from the faithful Gaius had made him see reason.

Gwaine had screamed and kicked as he was dragged out of the apartment, handcuffed, at three in the morning, before being brutally thrown into his boss's van, who tapped his mouth when he had started begging Merlin to at least go with him.

He hugged him so tightly that it took his breath away, then stuffed his belongings into a suitcase and let them go out of his life.

"I'll send you a postcard," Gaius'd said, leaving him to his fate, in the hands of his vengeful boss that he had used this as a way to go on an holyday.

Too bad he had left him in charge of the store.

He sighed and in an instant, Merlin understood that his brother knew, from the beginning, that _Diavolo d'oro_ was one of Arthur Pendragon's companies. It was the same company of prestige and seriousness that Gaius had recommended so much to him, who had not discovered in his crystal ball the trap that awaited him.

"Did you really think," Colin said, trying to regain his composure, "that I would have quietly accepted the marriage proposal under your terms?"

"Imagination has nothing to do with this," he replied, "I think I warned you that when an Italian closes a deal, his word is worth as much as his signature. I can understand it must be irritating for you that it was my company that granted you the loan to help get your brother out of the country. You worked fast, sweetheart. I admire your courage, but you have to accept that now you owe me more debt than before."

_Damn it!_

Colin wanted to throw the receiver and run away with his boss and Gwaine, but his character was different from his brother's, and he understood that Arthur Pendragon was right.

"I offer you my sincere condolences, Mer. It is a disappointment that this soothsayer you work for didn’t see my name written in his crystal ball. I realize that he is a client of _Diavolo d'oro_, so I believe he was the one who suggested you to go to a loan house. I don’t think it would have occurred to you"

"Yes," Colin acknowledged, " Gaius thought that would be a solution."

"Didn’t he read the Tarot cards?" He mocked.

"You are a devil," he said, "Your fate is really devilish, don’t you think?"

"If you say so, my dear." He laughed in a manner that expressed a sarcastic mood. "You and I have issues to discuss, so I'll be at your apartment in an hour to take you out to dinner. You'll be ready, right?”

There was a click; he had hung up.

Colin put the receiver back in place and staggered to the couch where he dropped on it and took a cushion in his hands, needing something to hold on to as he assimilated the new reality... he was still trapped in the net that his carefree brother had naively helped to knit.

At least that's what he wanted to believe...

From the beginning, he had the feeling he couldn’t escape from Pendragon and was no longer surprised to learn that he owned a loan house in addition to the gambling casino. It was easy to see he was not an ordinary man and that he enjoyed getting involved in risky business. Earning money in such businesses added excitement to the game.

Colin could imagine how sarcastically he must have laughed when he learned that Colin had become a client of his loan house. _He was so naive!_

This rude English or Italian man, whatever, now had the frying pan by the handle. Arthur did not care that they admired him; he wanted to be feared. He had hardened when he discovered that people could be cruel to a child, just because that child had no father.

Now that he had one... he was getting his justice. The most painful thing he must have seen was not having his mother with him.

His armor grew and hardened, inch by inch, until it enveloped his heart too. Nothing could shake him and that was what he was responsible for.

_He's impenetrable_, Colin thought…but he was not! He said he would be in his apartment in an hour. Arthur Pendragon had already decided that they would marry, regardless of his opinion.

And just as that man had said, now his debt was higher than before.

Colin had fallen into his hands and his only weapon was preserving his dignity.

He always prided himself on his composure and dignity, so he would receive him with his head held high and not with the submissive attitude Arthur was likely to expect upon arrival.

He went to his bedroom and studied the suits in the closet. He took a black, formal suit that went with a burgundy shirt and threw it on the floor. He chose dark blue jean trousers, with a navy blue shirt and some black boots, so polished that he could see his reflex in them. In addition, his precious new jacket.

He would put this on so that Arthur'd understand the message. He had nothing to celebrate when facing a marriage with a man who only thought in terms of money and profit and didn't know love.

Blue fit well with his eyes and his white skin. He looked at himself in the mirror and combed his hair carefully, smiling.

_I only need a fucking bow-tie on my neck_, he thought.

He noticed that his lower lip was somewhat purple, from so much biting, probably due to his damn nerves. He studied his image and saw the concern had enlarged and obscured the pupils of his beautiful and expressive blue eyes.

He couldn't understand what Arthur Pendragon wanted from him. It was perhaps... his whiteness that contrasted with his bronze color; his lineage to compensate for his unknown origin and even his rebellion with shades of fear, that made his eyes shine above the refined nose; his lips, which shamed him for having the shape of a heart, as feminine as his oval chin.

When Colin was a child, his father had taken him to a Greek church where he showed him the glass window in which a man with armor appeared, kneeling on his kneeler. Even then, Colin discovered his resemblance to him in the perfect whiteness he had inherited; the blood of his ancestors who fought against the modern inheritance, which was mixing, as were the half-breed like Arthur.

His blood occasionally produced some descendants with silvery blond hair and green or blue eyes. On the other hand, in Colin they were pale with dark hair and blue or black eyes like night.

Colin was not vain, but he also didn't like fake modesty. He knew very well Arthur liked his appearance and that he was determined to conquer it for himself.

Otherwise he couldn't understand how a man like him, who could have the woman or man he wanted, would look at someone as simple as Merlin felt in appearance.

He held his breath at the thought his fiancée might have known the story of that young Greek man who brought Greece to glory, on a knight's steed, becoming a King, liberator of a revolted empire. That was the sort of story that would fascinate a man who had raised from the poverty in which he was born and who now, through manipulations of money, forced people to come to him, pleading.

Colin concluded that that's why he enjoyed being the owner of a loan house with credit facilities. He liked having people under his power, as Colin was.

It was this idea that made his blood rush through his veins, so that, when the bell rang to announce his arrival, his cheeks were on fire when he opened the door.

He led Arthur into the living room. His tall slender and dark figure always made him shudder.

His eyes traveled over him as if Merlin was already his...which was partly true.

"You look very handsome, sweetheart." Arthur stood beside him, studying his slender figure from shoes to the way he had combed his hair.

Colin recoiled instinctively, fearing that with a kiss, he wanted to denote he belonged to him.

"Don't be afraid" He murmured. "I will not ruin your suit, nor your hair... for now. Put this on your shirt."

He handed him a box with a transparent top and Colin saw a small, beautiful white rose inside.

"Thank you..."

He lifted the cover, happy to concentrate on his favorite flower without having to see Arthur's eyes.

He took out the rose and uttered a suffocated cry as he found a jeweled brooch attached to it.

His gaze searched Arthur's face.

"You shouldn't have."

"It's not that expensive," He interrupted, "and it's perfectly normal for a young man to accept a gift from his fiancé. Because that fact hasn't changed, do you realize that, right?"

"I was hoping..." He groaned, biting his lip as he pricked his finger with the pin of the brooch.

"You deserve it," He said, not very kindly. "Is this your coat?" He lifted Merlin's jacket from the other night and looked at it, frowning. "I'll buy you a better one, as I promised"

"I like my jacket just fine" Colin said defensively. "I saw it in a second hand store and I loved it. I don't want coats made with dead animal or something..."

"We'll see." He took the rose and brooch from Colin's trembling hands and put them on his jacket.

The jewels of the fastener flashed blue, with golden and green glints. The gems gleamed as Arthur placed the jacket on his small, seemingly delicate, shoulders.

"Have you ever accepted a negative answer?" Colin asked, lifting his chin to look into his face.

The idea that he was very... manly…crossed through his mind. Too handsome to be a simple human being.

"No, if I can help it," he said. "Surely you agree that a rich husband is better than a poor one, because love in an attic is beautiful only in novels, but in reality, it means being cold and hungry most of the time and thus, love soon dies."

He tried to ignore the fact that Arthur thought that if Colin didn't marry him, he would marry some other man. _Where the hell did he get the idea he liked men?_

"I'm sure that true love can overcome many difficulties," he said, though he wrinkled his nose at the sadness and bad smells he would have to endure if living in a place like the one Arthur had described.

"In theory, many things are possible, but in practice, love, like roses" With a finger, he indicated his gift, "only blooms in the heat of the sun. I speak of poverty from personal experience." Suddenly his words were extremely hard. "I saw how the kind and affectionate side of my second mother... that friend of hers I told you about... was hardened by a hard life. My mother was only a child when she made the mistake of enjoying the warmth of a man's arms and her friend felt guilty about introducing her to that man. Margaret was the same age as my mother when she had to take care of me, whom was really no hers. When a horrible subject offered her marriage, she accepted and looked for my father to get rid of me, without regret. But, I know that she could never forget that mistake that my mother and she committed, because I was the consequence of their actions.”

"Is that why you don't sympathize many people?" Colin asked, feeling compassion for the boy, though not for the hardened, cruel adult he had become. He didn't have that Greek armor visible, but he did have a hard skin and a very bad opinion of people.

"Do I need people to like me?" He asked sarcastically. "There are some who I respect for their brains, others for their appearance and others I despise for their stupid minds. I am only human, _my life_. What happens is that circumstances have taught me to be less hypocritical. I don't suffer from this social disease that makes you say nice things to people for then hit them with a knife when they turn their back on you. In short, Mer, I don't wear a mask of kindness while I think unpleasant things about others."

"For being Italian, you have a large vocabulary in English, Mr. Pendragon."

His accent tinged his words with different meanings, and Colin was sure he was hiding behind a mask, though he recognized that he was not one of those who smiled falsely.

"I insist you call me by my name." He suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders and Merlin felt the strength that could lift him in the air. "If you want the truth, I will tell you that I consider you mine as much as Camelot is. There is where you belong, by my side. You have always belonged to that place, not to this old and neglected flat in Prince Wood, which smells of food and where the radio and the neighbors' discussions can be heard."

His hands tightened around him in a possessive gesture.

"My God, you little fool, do you know what your brother did with the house that belonged to your parents?" His half smile and the glitter of his eyes had told him everything. "It was the first time he fell in his greed. My father wanted the money fast or he would pay with his life. Of course, after all that, he fell in my hands. Don't you know I promised your brother that there would always be a room for you in Camelot? He may be a fool and irresponsible, but he loved you and it hurt him that you lost your home... " Arthur laughed.

"How, how could you..."

"No. Don't look at me like that, huh."

"With everything you and your family have, why do this to us?"

"Do you think I would have kept that stone house in the countryside if it weren't for you? Uhm... and let's not forget your flat. Actually, because of your brother's greed, you have nothing left. You are in the streets, Merlin; but don't worry, once we are married, I will return to you the house that was your parents'."

Colin stared at his tanned, stern face, and his heart began to pound.

"So ... that's why you proposed to me before. Because I was a burden to your conscience.”

"To Hell the conscience!"

Arthur held him in his arms until he hurt him, and his lips seized the young man's savagely, his breath penetrating hotly, making him know that he was a winner, a conqueror, a man like the first one who set foot on the threshold of Camelot, of the true Camelot, as master and lord of his kingdom.

When Arthur finally released his lips, Colin was very stunned, unable to say anything. He gasped for words, feeling trapped and imprisoned by a man who, this time, would not allow him to reject his proposition.

"It's not my conscience," He murmured. "It's my senses. You are everything I want and you are the husband I am going to have."

"Even when I don't love you?" Colin said bluntly.

"Are you talking about the love of romance novels?" he mocked, "About the passion between two soulmates? What we feel, Colin, we feel it with the body and not with some mystical organ that scientists have not been able to find inside men or women. Our needs come from the flesh. What’s wrong with that?"

As he spoke, he ran his hand over Colin's hair, the tips of his fingers sliding around his neck, trapping it with delicate firmness.

"Don't tell me," He continued in a deeper tone, "that you feel nothing when I caress you. Right now, my fingers are perceiving the accelerated beating of your heart."

"The heart beats fast when we are afraid,"

In this situation, so close to him, Colin realized his lack of experience with people in general, not to mention people like Arthur, whose temper and passion were lighted up by the mixture of English and Italian blood. He could see it clearly in his features, his taut and sunburned skin.

"So I frighten you, don't I?" He seemed to like the idea. A malevolent smile appeared in his eyes. "Maybe you're just hungry. I have reserved a table for two at "The Round Table", an Italian restaurant where the lamb chops are exquisite. Come, let's have dinner."

In front of the building was a Jaguar, parked near the entrance. Its body was dark and its interior very luxurious, upholstered with golden skin.

"It's my favorite color," Arthur said, looking deep into Colin's eyes.

Colin's heart skipped a beat as he realized Arthur was courting him in his own way, telling him what an Englishman would have bothered to say with words.

Until now he hadn't thought about courtship and marriage bells. _Do they ring bells at a wedding in Argentina?_ He was certain Arthur would not insist on a formal ceremony.

_I'm about to marry this man!_ The phrase echoed in his mind and sent hasty signals of danger all over his body. _He believes that the love I feel for my parents' house will compensate for the lack of love between us_.

"Do you like Sicilian food?" The car stopped gently at a traffic light, the red light illuminating the interior of the Jaguar.

"I've never tried it" He replied. His fingers tightened around the safety belt that was holding him.

"Then you missed something good."

The car moved toward a quieter part of the Kaaure Star. Arthur drove with skill and without nervousness, as he did everything else.

Colin wasn’t very hungry, not even when they arrived at the restaurant where the air was filled with delicious aromas.

The chief waiter led them to a secluded table, lit by dimly lit lamps and placed in front of a striking mural of an imposing Englishman on horseback, with some dogs at his side. This man resembled the man at his side, showing a brave indomitable look, blond hair and bright eyes, dominating the beast he was holding firmly.

Colin stared at the mural and saw the same definite features, power and confidence reflected in the face of the man who was sharing the table with him.

"I suggest you try the Italian dishes," He said persuasively.

"Then you'd better order for me." He didn't even bother to look at the menu. "It will be your decision... since you rule my life"

"What a dramatic phrase!" He mocked, "There are many young people who would be delighted to receive an invitation to drink and dine in a place like this."

"Well, it's too bad that none of them is with you," He reply. "I'm not going to dazzle you or the restaurant, if that's what you expected."

"I don't expect anything I cannot get by myself, my love."

He focused his attention on the menu and when the waiter came, he ordered in Italian. The guttural and powerful consonants came more natural to him than English, when he had to pay more attention.

"Well, what kind of mischief do you think your brother will do in the company of that worthless fortune-teller?"

Colin looked at his fiancé and could imagine what a prey felt like when it fell into the trap of the hunter.

"I think... you have a deal with the Devil" He said.

"My child, am I not the devil himself?" Arthur looked at him with a mocking, amused gleam in his eyes. "Isn't that what you want to believe instead of the truth?"

"Do you know the meaning of that word?" Colin asked.

"There are two kinds of businessmen, you know." He broke a piece of bread, "Those who use tricks to gain the trust of someone and those who have so much trust in themselves they don't need to use tricks. I have shares in several companies, I have many issues to attend, but they are all clean/legal businesses. You hate me for your brother's bad decisions, for taking the house that belonged to your parents, but I can assure you that the mortgage arrived into my hands legally." He paused and then continued, "Your brother needed money and I could give it to him. Unfortunately, much of that money remained at the roulette table, forcing your brother to borrow money again in order to pay off his debts. I allowed him to work for my club because, otherwise, he would have visited another, managed with less honesty"

He stared at the dark-haired young man and forced his will with that deep, dominant gaze.

"If I had a younger brother, Colin, I would work for him; I wouldn’t leave him homeless. So blame your brother a little. It was he who lost your home to the game"

"Because men like you have business where other men can lose their lives, betting."

"Generally, I don’t encourage customers like your brother."

"Really?" Colin felt himself blush under his gaze. He could not deny Gwaine's feverish addiction to gambling, "Why did you let him in then, if you disliked his behavior so much? No, rather, why did you allow him to work there?"

"I think you know the answer."

"Oh yeah?" He defended himself.

"I saw your brother lose his goods at a gambling table and I wondered how he could do such a thing. I watched him, almost fascinated. Night after night, he came to Camelot Club. He was a gentleman and, every time, he left a little more of his own history behind, among cards and dices. Men like me don't create players. They need places where they can lose themselves. I was a man without property, determined to gain money."

Arthur linked his fingers, watching him.

"You want to know how I became the owner of the casino?"

"If you want to tell me..." Colin's voice was not interested, but he was very curious, since the Camelot Club had been a second home for his brother.

"My father had an accident that made him unable to perform tasks as heavy as the management of a casino of that magnitude. Of course, he would never give it to me, just like that. You know... I have my own business too. I had a shipment of leather destined for China, and I exchanged this merchandise for the club. When I took possession of it, I found out your dear brother had a huge debt there. I thought he was a fool, even if I sympathized him. It is very easy to learn to estimate the English gentlemen."

"Unlike the Italians," he murmured.

"I wonder if you'll ever say something nice to the man you're about to marry."

"You mean... the man who is forcing me to marry him."

"Snapping a whip like that fox hunter?" He said, pointing to the mural. "Has it not occurred to you that by marrying me you will recover all the things your brother lost?"

"What a mercenary mind you have, Mr. Pendragon." Colin's eyes were hateful. "You love money."

"I respect it" His eyes and features looked like silver.

He reached into his jacket and pulled something from its inner pocket. He slid it across the table to him.

"Try it on, to see if it is of the right size. Once you put it on, you can start using my last name."

"What is it?" He looked at the small box, knowing full well what it contained.

"Open it and find out."

"No, I don't want to."

"Then let me open it for you" He took the box and showed him the big ring in the satin case: two rubies surrounded by glittering gold. "Diamonds are cold, emeralds are somewhat ostentatious and opals are said to attract bad luck. So I chose rubies, which shine like flames. Give me your left hand."

Merlin closed his fist in his lap, challenging him with his eyes. He could not force him to accept the ring in a restaurant, with so many people watching... Or he could? Merlin didn't know him that much, not enough to be sure. 


	5. Los nervios de la primera cita

The gems of the ring glowed like fire in the palm of his hand. They were perfect, contrasting with the imperfection of their relationship.

"There are certain things we must do, Mer, and one of them is that you must wear my ring. It will make a great contrast with your white skin. It will look perfect on your finger. You’re lucky to have quite feminine hands. Every human being is a bit vain. Come on now, obey."

"No... I'm not a child."

"Then stop acting like one"

"I don't like wearing rings. They bother me."

"You’ll get used to this one, so you better start now. Give me your hand!"

His voice and gesture grew more insistent and he didn't seem to care the people at the next table had interrupted their conversation to listen.

Not desire but shame made Colin obey him.

Arthur took his delicate hand and slipped the precious ring on his finger.

"Here you go. Did I hurt you?"

"It hurts my pride," he replied.

"I'm sorry you think so." He shrugged.

Arthur’s attention went to the waiter who had just brought the bottle of Bollinger he had ordered. The waiter took the bottle out of the ice bucket and wrapped it in a napkin, showing Arthur the label. Arthur gave his approval.

"The wine is of the same age as my fiancé," he said.

The waiter looked at Colin and smiled, answering Arthur in Italian.

After removing the cork and filling the elongated glasses, Colin was curious about what the man had said and asked Arthur.

He lifted his glass and watched closely the shine of the wine through the glass and the tiny bubbles rising to the edge.

"He said I am a lucky man if my fiancé is as sweet as the wine."

Colin blushed. "What a misfortune for you I am not!"

"That's a matter of opinion."

"Do I look very cheerful to you?" He asked sarcastically. "I do all this because I have no choice. I am sitting here with you and wearing your ring because I am trapped and no creature that is trapped wants to kiss the hunter's hand."

"You have misunderstood my desires, Mer. I don’t want you to flatter me constantly."

"What do you want then?" He dared to ask, looking into his eyes and demanding an answer.

"Just what I have."

"Ah! And what is that?"

"You," He said simply. "all of you!"

He lifted the glass of wine to his lips, took a long drink, and Colin felt as if he was avidly drinking from his lips and body. He looked at him fiercely, looking at the strong line of his shoulders beneath his dark, perfectly cut jacket, the front of his very white shirt, contrasting with the skin that had been exposed to the hot sun from his childhood. Not just the sun had left his mark on him, when he lowered his glass, Colin could see his lips were tight, perhaps because of the taste of many bitter memories.

"Feelings never influence my decisions," he added. "You should know that."

"You're dominated by the need for revenge." He had never been so sure of anything, and that made the sips of wine leave an acrid taste in his mouth.

"Revenge can be bad," he conceded, "but the impulse is very natural."

"Even though I didn't take anything from you?" He asked.

He stared at him, sitting in front of him in the light of the golden-screen lamp. His hair perfectly framed his delicate and thoughtful face where gilded-blue eyes shone like two enormous beads full of light.

"Don't be so sure you haven't taken anything of mine, sweetheart."

"What could I have taken?" Arthur looked at him in astonishment. "We've seen each other less than half a dozen times."

"Shut up!" He said sharply.

Arthur’s gaze was fixed on his face, and yet, Merlin felt the urge to lift the white tablecloth in front of him and use it as a shield against those predatory eyes. That man seemed to be able to strip both his body and his soul just by looking at him.

"Don't worry" Arthur stopped looking at him for a few seconds to indicate with discretion a woman at the next table. Her dress had a cleavage that allowed seeing the furrow between her breasts, like a valley that anyone could walk with their eyes. "It is one of the things I like about you. The body is made for intimacy, not to be showed publicly"

Although he was speaking in English, his intonation was Basque when his eyes returned to Colin. They examined his dressing with the approval of an Italian in which a Turk's blood beat in his veins.

"Oh, that... I'm sorry to find out only now that you wouldn't have been interested if I had gotten a shorter one."

Arthur laughed at such an answer, and Merlin only snorted at that light attitude toward him.

His first dish arrived: smoked fish with pickled eggplants, sliced artichoke hearts, large juicy olives, and sesame bread in the form of braided hoops.

"We call this bread kalouria." Arthur cut a piece, placed it between his hard white teeth and chewed it with approval. "It is baked every day and is not sold in plastic bags that are stored in the refrigerator. It is not surprising that Westerners are becoming as artificial as their emotions and attitudes. A good bread is the essence of life."

Colin ate and once again realized that the Italian who had come into his life, in spite of himself, had a very personal way of expressing himself and was not interested in the reaction of others on his opinions. It would never occur to him to speak in the common language, to say the things that people hoped to hear. It would be against his own nature. Walking in a row, inviting others, feeling frustrated if someone didn't sympathize with him were things that Arthur Pendragon was not interested in.

Colin took a sip of wine to reassure himself.

"I suppose you will insist on a ceremony?"

"That was never a topic for discussion, My Heart." He slapped his fingers and ordered more of that delicious bread to the waiter, who came at once.

"I hope..." Colin cut his fish, nervously. _Had he just called him 'Heart'? Fuck, this was so unreal_. "I hope it won’t be a long and complicated ceremony."

Arthur denied with his head.

"It is a beautiful ceremony and, of course, will take place in Argentina."

"Argentina" Colin looked at him with a flash of rebelliousness in his eyes. "But, maybe there are some churches in this country where we can get married"

"No doubt," Arthur added, "but they don't allow marriage equality... If you understand me."

"That I can return the ring whenever I want. How about... now?"

"You'll like it. It’s a nice place. At least, the sun shines."

"You want everything your way, don't you?" Colin's eyes filled with resentment. "You have a monumental ego"

"Oh yeah?" He shrugged. "Is there anyone in England who really interests you, besides a few distant relatives? I care very much for my sisters and I will give them the satisfaction of being present at our wedding. It will compensate them a little for what they have never had, some freedom. I think you understand that, right? Come on, you're not a selfish person, Colin."

"No," he agreed. "I wouldn't be in this mess if I had thought more about myself and less about others."

"You say so flattering things to your fiancé," he teased. "Therefore, you are in a mess, as you say. You are in a situation you cannot escape."

"It's clear you won't let me escape."

"Do you feel like a hero who is tied to the train tracks?" He laughed, which was rather harsh. "They always rescue them at the last moment, right? I may not be a hero, my love, but neither I'm a villain, don't you think?"

"I'm no hero," he said. "But it turns out that the unknown makes me nervous."

"Oh, come on, if that were true, you wouldn't work for such a famous clairvoyant as Gaius."

"That sounds funny to you, of course. Do you think it's just nonsense, because he sent me to your loan house?"

"Don't think I'm made of stone, Colin. That man that could be your father has a gigantic crush on you."

"Don't be ridiculous! What are you trying to tell me? Gaius is..."

"Enough! I don't want to argue with you. Besides, I'm calmer knowing he is away, for now. Well then, without mentioning the old man, tell me about your work. We Italians are a very superstitious race. There are young villagers who still have some curious traditions about love. Young women like to know if a dominant man will fill their lives with emotion. Do you have customers like that?"

"Sometimes," Colin admitted. "At first I was skeptical as to his powers, though now not so much."

"Despite his mistake of not seeing my face reflected in his crystal ball?"

"Probably your influence was controlling him at that moment," Colin said, thinking that there might be some truth in it.

A clairvoyant, because of his sensitivity, is exposed to all kinds of influences and Colin had discovered the man sitting in front of him in the restaurant, wrapped in a platinum penumbra, had a very powerful aura. This wasn’t only perceived in his features and in his figure, but also in his eyes. His pupils and eyelashes were very dark and contrasted with the color of his gaze.

The empty plates were removed and they brought the service table where a large piece of lamb meat crackled in its juice, accompanied by a variety of vegetables. The succulent view of flesh suddenly increased Colin's appetite and he didn't object when the waiter served him a generous portion of meat, kidneys, baked potatoes, cauliflower and carrots.

"Sauce, young man?"

"Yes, please."

He watched the hot, dark sauce on the plate. Merlin was aware that his host was looking at him, perhaps in his sarcastic way. He enjoyed his sudden appetite.

"Please begin," He told him. "Food should be enjoyed while it is hot ... like some other appetites."

But Colin waited for them to serve him, displaying his innate courtesy, his face cold and without emotion, concealing any sign that his observation had penetrated into that deep center whose existence he hadn't completely noticed until Arthur recent appearance in his life.

Colin knew he had no experience with women, and men had never been his target, but his instincts were warning him that Arthur Pendragon was a man whose sensuality was certainly equal to his ambitions.

As he cut the meat, the rubies in his hand flashed. That was another sign that Arthur was willing to make their marriage real and not a simple legal farce.

"Do you like the lamb?" he asked.

"When it is not for a sacrifice," he heard himself answering.

"Ah! That refers to you, no doubt."

"I am a lamb about to be sacrificed, am I not?"

"Appetizingly served, with almost wavy hair, dreamy eyes and a very attractive body," Arthur agreed, looking into his eyes as he carried a piece of lamb to his mouth.

His insinuation made Merlin blush and he immediately lowered his eyes, pretending to concentrate on his meat. Now Arthur was frankly telling him that he intended to recover the entire sum of Gwaine's debt from him.

Oh, if only he were more worldly, if he were one of those young men who had dealt with many men and had acquired that insolent appearance that Arthur would soon detect with his experience. But the blond knew he was inexperienced. He could read it in his eyes; otherwise, he wouldn’t insist on marrying, but would have suggested a less respectable agreement.

When the dessert-time arrived, Arthur didn’t order dessert, but the waiter brought some dishes with strawberries.

They served a thick white cream on the cakes, which they presented in a jar of silver and with caramel on it. The dessert was very appetizing, and Colin commented on it.

"I'm glad you like it," Arthur smiled. "Most of our dinner has been Italian dishes, but this dessert is not. I found it thanks to an American friend and the cook here always prepares it for me when I come to dinner. Finally, Mer, dear, we have something in common: we both like strawberries with cream. You’ll be glad to know the cook of Camelot also makes this strawberry dessert to perfection. It was one of the requirements for the job.”

"What happened to Sara, my father's cook?" Colin felt pain and sorrow as he spoke.

He remembered the enormous kitchen, warm and cozy, with the cabinets that reached the ceiling, full of dishes and pans; the long table, very clean and with large drawers, the old stove and the lamps hanging from the white ceiling, supported by hooks.

How he would like to see the house again, but surely when he did, he would have become the husband of a man he barely knew. It was not easy... he felt strange impulses running through his veins.

"She did not want to work for me." Arthur shrugged. "So I gave her a pension and I suppose she went to live with her daughter. Of course, you will find some changes, it is inevitable. I have a new employee in charge of the stables. Yes, now we have a stable and there are new horses. Some parts of the house have been remodeled, without changing their style. I have very good taste, you know?"

As Arthur spoke, his eyes ran down Colin's face and hair, giving him a hint that he considered him an example of his good taste.

Merlin supposed he should be flattered, but whenever he looked at him, he felt he considered it to be just good business. He fit in with his concept of belonging. He was part of Camelot and of that house his brother lost in a stupid game. Colin was part of the place, like the stone walls that the rain always kept clean, the towers that crowned their black slate roofs and the windows divided by uprights.

Suddenly, something very unpleasant happened in the elegant dining room of the restaurant.

A man at one of the nearby tables began to suffocate with something he had swallowed while his companion stared at him in horror. The man made terrible sounds and his face became purple.

Arthur saw him, pulled back his chair, and walked over to the man in distress. Quickly and firmly he tilted his head back, put a finger in his mouth and pulled out what was choking him. In a few minutes, the man breathed easily and the purple color disappeared from his face, leaving in its place a great pallor.

Colin watched everything, holding his breath.

The man's companion stood up, ran to Arthur and hugged him. He tilted his head, said a few words and then withdrew.

Seeing him returning to the table, Colin wondered how he could do such a thing. Everyone else had sat there, staring at the man, feeling helpless and frightened, but Arthur acted without hesitation.

His confidence had taken his breath away, and all he could do was look at how he sat and continued to drink his coffee.

"It was a piece of fruit," he said. "A piece of orange. Look, they are already leaving. I told the wife to take him to the hospital, in case I had scratched his throat with a fingernail. In my classroom, many years ago, a child almost choked with a piece of orange and, when removing it, the teacher scratched him and he suffered an infection that caused an abscess."

"It's..." He'd baffled him. "You're an unpredictable man, Arthur"

"You think so?" He smiled. "You finally called me by my name. It’s something I didn't expect to happen for a while."

Colin didn't notice that his name had escaped him, and at once he started the attack again.

"You give the orders," he replied. "I don't think you care about the fact you're taking over my life, as if I didn't have to give up things that, for me, have the same value as your desires. I'd rather work to make a living. I don't want to be your pet."

"Nonsense," He pushed the plate of Turkish sweets toward Merlin. "Take one, honey. I think at your age you don't need to take care of your figure and if so, don't let that worry you. My Turkish blood likes round shapes."

"I can imagine it"

His eyes trailed over his face, desperately searching for something to indicate that he could persuade him to accept the return of the ring and free him from what he considered only a kind form of captivity. His indifference in rejecting his pleas showed that he meant nothing to him. Arthur had no interest in pleasing him... he just wanted to own him.

"For you, I only mean pleasure," Colin said.

"Exactly" He put a sweet between his white teeth and nipped it with pleasure.

"You don't even bother denying it," he said, horrified.

"I never bother denying the truth, my love."

"Oh!" Colin couldn't say more.

Feeling like suffocating, he pulled back his chair and stood up. "I need to go to the restroom, and I hope you choke with your fucking sweets!"

He reached the bathroom, trembling with a mixture of anger and tears. He wiped his tears in disgust. There seemed to be no way out of Arthur's gasp. Even if he left the Restaurant and escaped in the dark of night, he would have to return to his apartment at some point and knowing that, Arthur would be there, waiting for him to claim his property.

He had become just that... the property of a man who trusted what money could give him. He had watched, patiently, how Merlin’s family was ruined, and then presented himself to seize the spoils of the Morgans: his former home and him.

Colin stared bitterly at his image in the mirror, trailing his figure with his desperate eyes. It was all that man wanted, what Arthur Pendragon wanted from him. He didn’t care that inside that body he had his own desires.

Dammit!

He stepped away from the mirror and rushed out of the restroom.

There stood his tall figure, waiting for him in the hall and holding his jacket for him to put on.

Outside the restaurant, the night air was soft and the sky was covered with stars. He stopped on the sidewalk beside the car and breathed in the air that announced the arrival of summer.

"I’m liking your country more and more, Colin, it has a lot to offer.”

"And you're interested in taking your part, aren’t you?" He said coldly.

He looked away from the stars to look at his face and then, frowning, opened the car door.

"Get in," He said sharply. Merlin obeyed and curled up in his seat so he would not feel so close to him.

They drove away from the restaurant and, after a few minutes, Colin noticed that they weren’t going to his apartment, but to central London. _Where were they going now?_ He hoped they wouldn’t go to some nightclub. He didn’t want to be in Arthur’s arms, dancing with him.

Arthur turned the car into a small street, next to Peiton Sairus and stopped it.

"I want to go for a walk," He informed Merlin. "Join me."

Colin didn't argue. A walk was preferable to a nightclub and although it was late, there were many people in the street, attracted by the lights of Peiton, which gleamed from the shops, the galleries and the facades of theaters and cinemas.

Arthur took his hand and passed it through his arm, holding it to prevent him from rejecting him.

"Listen to the birds," Arthur told him, as they walked, hearing the restless shrieks and cooing of thousands of birds that had adapted to such a strange way of life because they found their sustenance. Above, on the roofs of the buildings, they rested. The bright lights of the city kept them active and awake.

Colin listened, entranced and embarrassed by the situation. The roofs were as full of birds as some beaches of recess.

"You see," Murmured Arthur, "It is possible to adapt to a situation without breaking the heart."

"It is possible," He said, "but in any case it grieves me to hear those birds, restless and unable to sleep, when in the countryside their cousins rest peacefully. It isn't natural."

"It isn't," He agreed, "But life in the city provides them with food, so they do not suffer much. Several generations of these birds have spent their lives on the roofs of Peaton; they have known no other kind of life, so it is not strange to them. In the years you've spent in London, you must have often felt like a stranger, right?"

"Sometimes," He admitted, "But I'm adjusting."

"No," Said Arthur. "I suspect you've never stopped thinking about your home, where you grew up, where your parents lived, there, at the edge of the field where, when you were a child, you used to ride horses. That place is waiting for your return."

Merlin's heart skipped a beat when he said that. So that was why he had brought him to Peaton, to listen to the nocturnal birds and thus to awaken in him the nostalgia for the home that so many generations of his family had inhabited ... and loved.

"It's as you said," Colin's voice was cold again, "You never do anything for sentimental reasons."

He didn't answer. Lifting his face to the starry sky, he listened to the night birds.

Merlin saw in his face something similar to the sadness he felt for those restless creatures, chirping and flapping their wings in the glow of the lights that kept the night away.

He chilled and Arthur noticed.

"It's time to go home," He said.

They walked back to the car. The interior was warm and pleasant and Merlin's tension began to fade.

"I suppose... you'll start taking care of the formalities" Merlin said tentatively.

"For our wedding?"

"Yes, I hope you don't expect it to be a very sumptuous event."

"Neither of us want that," Arthur said. "We will marry in Argentina, as I said, and then we will go by boat to my private island. We will spend our honeymoon there."

_Honeymoon_.

Oh God. He will really become one with this man.

"I understand." Colin was very aware of him, when he heard that phrase, which for a couple in love would have been very exciting, for it contained a promise of sweetness and romance. "I guess I have no say in this matter."

"You can choose your suit," Arthur said dryly.

"Are we getting married in a church?"

"Of course!"

"Won't your father have objections to you marrying an... Englishman?"

"I don't think so, and if so, good."

"Oh, Arthur, please." Colin's voice was begging. "How could we be happy?"

"Happiness is something I haven't thought of much."

The car stopped in front of the building where Colin lived and as soon as the engine was turned off, Merlin took off his seatbelt, opened the door, and ran up the stairs leading to the door of the building.

He was looking for the keys in his pockets when Arthur forced him to turn around and face him, surrounding him with his strong arms.

Merlin looked at him, desperate, the light of the lamp beside the door illuminated his beautiful face, revealing his affliction.

"You only think of yourself," He said, sobbing. "What if I want to find some happiness? Doesn't that count?"

"You can find it with me"

"With you?" Merlin looked at him, not understanding how he could imagine that possibility. "I'm just a business, remember? I have been bought. You paid a price. I'm not interested in someone like you. I don't want someone like you"

"Yes, that's right." He ran his fingers through Merlin's hair, grabbing the back of his neck and kissing him fiercely. He was a man who had never known tenderness in all his life.

Colin submitted, because he couldn't resist, but didn't respond to the heat of his mouth. He accepted Arthur's kisses with deliberate passivity.

Arthur released him suddenly, murmuring a curse in Italian. "I will melt the ice in your heart," He warned. His eyes glittered menacingly.

"When the ice melts, Arthur, only a puddle of water is left." His head was tilted back, defying him with his gaze.

"You always have an answer, don't you?" His mouth twisted mockery. "Go to bed, my darling. I'll call you." He took his hand and rested his lips on the ring. Then, he turned and headed for the Jaguar.

Colin thought he had the flexibility and tenacity of one of those great felines in the jungle when they pursued their prey, and that he too could have the same cruelty when it suited his purpose.

The brunet entered and closed the door the moment he heard the car driving away to Arthur's apartment, to the upper floor of the Camelot Club, where weak men, like his brother Gwaine, fell victim to the cunning of people like Arthur Pendragon.

_What would he do if he didn't agree to his wishes?_ He wondered.

Oh, my God, he knew the answer very well... he would make Gwaine suffer the humiliation of being arrested and dragged back to England.

For Merlin the decision was already made. He knew he had to marry Arthur and thus prevent the crest of the Morgan family from being spotted by his brother, who was a fool, and not a delinquent.

Right now Merlin was hoping his boss was punishing him, the most cruel possible. He deserved the worst for putting him in such a mess. Thank goodness Gwaine had gone with Gaius and boarded the ship. If not, Merlin could see him perfectly well… manipulating a poor woman on the high seas, losing her money in the casino of the ship, while Merlin suffered painfully and despondently in a couple of rooms that were his little kingdom.

Damn you!

He looked around, knowing that in the near future, he would have to say goodbye to his apartment to fly to that country so mentioned and now cursed by his mouth and his conscience: Argentina.

There he would join, in an ungodly marriage, a man who had never uttered the words that time had consecrated ... _I love you_.

And he was sure that he wouldn't either.

***

She could enter the office without further delay. Nimueh knocked on the door. "Come in," She heard her boss's voice on the other side. She reached for the handle, pushed open the door, and entered. The office was exactly like the last time she visited.

The office was spacious, neat and with a window that allowed the view of some neighboring buildings. The carpets were thick and the furniture fine.

Nimueh was a woman of great beauty and enormous personality. A professional photographer. She was remarkable for her strange way of dressing, preferring men clothes, always: shirts and pants fitted at the waist but loose in the legs. Never high-heeled shoes and of course, she wore her favorite accessory: one that his uncle left her in inheritance after his death.

_"A hat! A bloody and stuffy hat ... that old miser should have given you land or money."_ Her father had said.

But she had only smiled and held affectionately that object over her heart. She had always loved his uncle's hat.

_"You look like a gangster, Uncle."_

_"Who says I'm not, little one?"_ He used to tell her, and then he would tell her stories after stories, with men in striped suits, cars skidding on the sidewalk, and thousands of bullets sloshing through the night air.

The hat never missed in her clothing and rarely she had been seen wearing a dress, if so, it was a black one.

She never imagined those stories could be true, but little by little, she found out they were. Her cousin, the only son of his beloved uncle, was the proof of it.

That man was the most irritating she had ever had the displeasure to meet and, worst of all, he was family. The bastard had practically forced her to accept the job, otherwise he would have told her father about her evening meetings with his secretary.

"It wouldn't be good" He had said, "for him to find out from some malicious person."

Nimueh imagined herself being thrown to the street and disinherited. She didn't care about the money, but she cared about what could happen to her partner if it became known that Reinald Marcel's daughter was lesbian. Another thing that boiled her blood, besides photography, was the pleasure of getting away with it. Zamahia was a pretty girl with great attributes and grace. Nimueh loved the girl. It had been love at first sight, one day when she visited her father and he was late at leaving the boardroom. She really liked her with all her heart. It was the sweetest thing her father had ever done for her: letting her wait in the hallway with his attentive, sweet and beautiful secretary. She didn't want her father to ruin their relationship. Her father would surely close all doors to her dear bride, and she would never find an acceptable job. Her cousin had assured her.

It had cost her a lot to love her and so she wouldn't let that bastard of her cousin ruin her.

He was sitting behind the desk, his legs crossed and his gaze lost. Being a good and kind man hurt him. But other than that, she knew his true face and wouldn't be fooled.

No. Nimueh straightened up, raised her head, and slowly crossed the room and stopped in front of the desk. She pulled an envelope from her pocket and tossed it on the desk.

He took the photograph and looked at it solemnly. He put it on the desk. He look at Nimueh, raising his eyebrow. He looked at the photo, and then at her again.

"Well," He said in a stony voice, which was suddenly erased. "What do you mean by this?"

"It's all so obvious"

"No. No, it isn’t. Is it the image of a boy? You have achieved only that after three days of following?"

Nimueh shrugged. "They've just met ... nothing strange. They seem to be very good friends."

"Good friends?" Nimueh was startled to notice that there was a person sitting on one of the chairs next to her. She was sure that when she came in she had only seen her cousin. "Why I don't believe you? Maybe the boy has business with him?"

"It doesn't seem so. The boy is just... a clairvoyant's assistant."

"And he's Arthur's friend, jha! Is your cousin a comedian? Since when the Pendragons consult cards?"

"Seeing what they have done to him lately, we should go and have our cards read too, don't you think?"

The brunette's laugh startled Nimueh again, more than anything, because a shiver ran through her body since he was so close to her. The man had a dangerous aura. _With what kind of men did that bastard get involved with?_

"Sure, I'm already looking forward to see what the stars have for me"

"And for me"

"You are scary"

"Miss ... I am very grateful for your help." He hold her hand delicately and place a kiss on it.

Nimueh removed it quickly and with an obvious grimace of disgust. "You don't have to thank me, just erase my face from your mind"

The young man took off her gray hat and looked at her from top to bottom. He seemed to like the charm of the girl. Nimueh just rescued her hat, frowning.

"Why so surly? We could get to know each other better..." The man smiled at her cousin with boldness and then added, "How is that? We could end up being family. Eh, cousin."

"I'm sorry, mate... but I don't think you're her type."

The young woman grunted at the sarcasm she was subjected to. She walked to the door and opened it, gritting her teeth. She gave the two men one last look. "I don't want to hear from you again."

"I hope for your sake, Nimueh, and that of your little bride, that you haven’t hidden something important. You never know... certain things often escape some people... like a misguided daughter."

"Rot in Hell!" Laughter flooded the office, irritating her. "Both of you!" And with that she slammed the door.

She hoped to have done the right thing.

As soon as she got home, she would burn the picture she had taken of both of them at the door of the apartment. If putting up with a man flirting with her disgusted her, seeing them kissing each other shook her brains and upset her stomach. However, something had made her change the photo at the last moment. She didn't know if that would affect those two, but from her own experience, she imagined that it was a secret.


	6. Diría: “Si, acepto”

The perfection of his suit made Colin feel even sadder, because it was the kind of suit anyone would wear, happy and proud, on their wedding day.

Thank goodness, this was not the traditional wedding dress, long to the floor and with tail. Rather, it was a white, masculine suit with details in an ivory tone, impeccable, with a pink and blue corsage, hooked on the lapel of his jacket. The same one that emphasized Colin’s long and delicate neck.

Without arguing, he had visited the dressmaker on the currents avenue _or it was Rivadavia?_ That didn’t matter, what was certain was that Arthur had sent him there.

He had submitted because trying to argue with Arthur was very difficult, there was no way to make him accept Colin had other opinions. He was not only an Italian, convinced that the man was the head of the family, but also had a natural gift for commanding.... and he had ordered the best clothes for the man who was about to become his husband.

The guests would wait for the bride and groom to arrive together, since it was a different marriage than a conventional one. No one would be given over. Both of the bride and groom would enter hand in hand, as Mr. Pietro Gasparr had explained, Uther's right-hand man and faithful friend of the Pendragon family long before Merlin's parents were born.

Just imagining walking to the altar hand in hand with that mysterious man who would be his husband very soon made him sweat from head to toe.

Pietro Gasparr was the man who would unite them in marriage. Merlin could feel the tension in his neck as he listened to his executioner talking about his future, as the husband of the blessed and fortunate young Pendragon.

God Save the Queen!

That elderly gentleman was the representative of the church where they were to be married, which was why Merlin almost collapsed after the talk he had with him, when he came to visit Merlin at the residence where they were staying after arriving from the airport.

Subtlety wasn't Father Pietro's best quality.

Colin put on the shoes that were an important part of his outfit. Then he opened the small box that had been delivered to him an hour earlier in his hotel room.

On a satin lining rested cufflinks, silver, with a small ruby stone glowing in the center, with red and dark sparks, contrasting with the white of his clothes. Merlin sighed at seeing the union of their initials on the edge and smiled, unable to avoid it, since Arthur had attached a note that said:

_"Let me slowly erase your tears and reserve your smiles for me. My hand will always be there to help you up... In my hands, you and your heart are safe. Don't worry about tomorrow and if you see through the window that rain is falling, feel happy, for in this country it is believed that rain, on the day of the wedding, brings fertility and good luck"_

The meaning of those final words made him so nervous, so much he almost fainted. If this was one of Arthur's jokes, it was of very bad taste. Merlin tried to erase from his great imagination the idea of himself with a swollen belly.

That was impossible, but considering he always thought impossible he would marry a man, he doubted now that whatever Arthur had in mind was impossible to do.

Maybe it was just a joke...

Did Arthur want to have children with him? It was unnatural for a man to become pregnant. Although Merlin had heard about a gay singer who had rent a woman’s womb, in order to have children that carried his blood.

Also, the joint adoption was a fact, many homosexual couples or with problems of sterility opted for adoption. A lonely child who needed the warmth of a family. Other methods were possible as well: the rent of wombs or the artificial insemination...

Merlin wondered what kind of ideas were lurking in Arthur's head.

Having children was a big responsibility.

He didn't doubt Arthur was a responsible man, but Merlin didn't feel ready for that.

Feeling confused and dazed, he slapped himself lightly on the cheek a couple of time. _Why did he start thinking about those things?!_

He studied his image several times in the mirror, hearing the rain falling on the windows of the hotel in front of the monument to women. His visit to that country was definitely consecrated with a beautiful view.

"El Puente de la Mujer (The Woman Bridge) is a footbridge that connects the two parts of the docks of the port, where a century ago there were only industries and factories... Now it is a romantic place"

Arthur had told him this as they walked hand in hand, more out of obligation than out of necessity. Merlin had spent the walk wondering about that city and its inhabitants, always wishing for the other to say something and not to try more than take his hand. He had also felt some intrigue about the little lock Arthur had in his hands.

"It was the work of the Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, who began construction in 1998. Over time I learned their design imitated the shape of a couple dancing tango."

"Tango? I think I hear something about it... it's a dance, right?"

Arthur had nodded and raised Merlin's hand he had in his own, placing the padlock in the palm of his beloved and smiling at a rather confused Merlin.

"There will be time to teach you about tango, for now, why don’t you put this here?"

Merlin hadn’t refused, despite seeing his initials and those of Arthur inscribed on that lock and enclosed in a heart, as if symbolizing a long-term deal.

Arthur sometimes seemed to preach the loving-kindness of a God who didn't live in a temple, nor avenged himself when his desires were denied... Much less when he smiled at him in such an innocent way.

The pounding of the rain reminded him of that night when he went to visit Arthur at Camelot Club to beg him not to retaliate against his brother. Instead, he had turned his attack on Colin.

He put his hand to one side, where he had felt a strange pain for several days. It was a pain that sometimes closed his throat, making him want to cry to feel relief. They were nerves, fear, resentment, a combination of everything.

Every beat of his heart, every sound of the clock on his wrist reminded him that time was shortening and soon the car would show up to drive him to the church.

Colin and Arthur had arrived in Buenos Aires about three nights ago and since then, everything had gone too fast.

"Doesn't it seem strange to your father and friends that we are getting married so suddenly? That we have never been formally introduced?" Colin had asked, making a desperate attempt to delay the wedding.

Arthur had shaken his head. "In my family it is normal for strangers to marry. My father my friends only need to know I am getting married. I think they had given up hope of me ever doing it"

"Oh! Why?"

For a moment, he was curious about this aspect of his life. He didn't doubt he had met many women, because he was very manly, however, it was surprising he hadn't married yet, despite his financial success and the Italians' need for a son to continue the family lineage and name.

How come he was homosexual? It also didn’t seem an impediment for him. Merlin himself was the clear proof of it. Then, he wondered once again, why _he_ had been chosen among so many possibilities.

"Because I have sisters," Arthur had said. "In our culture, it is a matter of honor and family pride that the man makes sure his sisters have a home of their own, before looking for a wife himself. Even now, many of my compatriots continue with this tradition. They work hard to give their sisters a dowry and then find a suitor and then, when they are impoverished, look for a bride who has a good dowry. In antiquity, in villages, the dowry could be simply a flock of sheep or goats, or a pair of good horses, but gold is preferred in the city. Anyway, my sisters are against marriage. They prefer their freedom to the idea of depending on a man... I fear for their future partners..."

Merlin had softly laughed at that. _They were true Pendragon_s. Then he had processed everything Arthur had said. "The marriage market," Colin had said bitterly. "If you weren't rich, I wouldn't have been right for you, because you know I have no dowry."

"No?" Arthur had been sitting at one end of the cab and Colin had seen his eyes shine. "As you say, I am a man rich enough to choose. No doubt many of our customs will seem strange to you. Yes, now I am rich, my dear, and I can buy good clothes, eat good food, own houses, and marry the person of my choice. However, I don't forget my origin."

The gleam in his eyes had stilled Colin as he heard him speak in the taxi, which had been advancing along the road, toward Madero Port.

Arthur had let out an exclamation typical of his personality to express what he was feeling when he spoke of his early years.

"I don't forget the boy who was banned from playing with other boys because he was an outcast, like my mother Margaret (Arthur's foster mother, friend of his mother), thanks to the rumours of those old women sitting in front of the doors of their houses to guard, with bright eyes, the younger women. Sometimes the boys threw stones at me and the girls repeated in chorus the nickname given to children like me and heard in the kitchens of their parents. When they called me by that name, I used to kick the mud, grit my teeth and swore that one day... that one day I would come back and show everyone what a bastard could become." He had laughed in that rough way, so peculiar in him, a wet laugh filled with the bitter of his memories.

Now, in his hotel room, Colin looked at his image in the mirror and studied the look in his eyes, which wasn't of hope and emotion, but that of a trapped creature, of pain and despair.

He was startled when he heard a knock on the door. He took courage and went to open it.

When he did, he found a woman apparently his own age, no doubt a Pendragon, dressed in a blue silk dress and a pretty straw hat with flowers.

"Hello," She said in English. Her attractive cheerful face brightened with a smile. "I am Morgause Pendragon, your fiancée’s sister. My boyfriend and I have come to take you to the church"

"Oh!" Colin stepped back, for the arrival of the young blonde had been unexpected. Arthur hadn't mentioned it. All he had said was that a little before eleven o'clock in the morning a car would arrive to take him to church.

Morgause looked at her wristwatch. "We have a few minutes, so could I come in and talk to you? No doubt you are nervous about the fact you're getting married. You look pale."

"Yes, come in" He opened the door for the girl.

"My boyfriend, Leon, is waiting for us in the lobby" Morgause explained with a friendly smile. "Leon is from here, Argentine, but he has Scottish origins, or something like that. I met him a couple of months ago, but my father thinks he's an old classmate. He will kill me if he knows I met him through social networks and thanks to Arthur. By the way, I am to understand you're Greek. You have beautiful hair, as dark as oil, and since in a way Arthur reminds me a lot of my father, I'm not surprised he chose a husband as handsome and quiet as you..."

"My hair is not easy to comb," Colin said with a forced smile.

"Say what you like, I envy the Greeks, like you, who have natural curly hair."

Morgause had blond hair on the tips and dark on the roots and wore small gold earrings. She wasn't very pretty, Colin thought, but she had something captivating: her big dark eyes reflected a deep and sincere concern for all who seemed to be in distress.

"It's typical of Arthur to drag you right away to the church. I want to see our cousin's face when he sees you. Mhm... uh, that woman must have her nails in the wall, climbing up the roofs of jealousy."

"Cousin?... That woman?"

"Oh, em ... don't mind me. I am only delirious from such happiness. As I was saying, the men of our family are use to take without asking, without giving you time to adapt to the family and our customs." Morgause gently put her hand on Colin's arm. "These men! In public, they are so surly and distant, but in private, they are so passionate. They can hate and love with such an intensity! Although they don't always understand what one needs, or better yet, they don't even realize we may have other needs besides theirs. I know, God... the love of an Italian like my brother can be a kind of captivity because, as I said, Arthur is very similar to my father: always so possessive with what they own."

When Morgause spoke of passion and captivity, Colin could feel his nerves tense. Those words described Arthur's attitude toward him...

He was prisoner of his passion, without love.

As if guessing the thoughts reflected in his eyes, Morgause said in a very low voice.

“I suppose you haven't seen our father, at least not since the last time." Morgause smiled at Merlin. "You thought I'd forgotten you? That balloon was too beautiful to erase from my childhood memory."

Colin shook his head, unaware that he was toying with the ruby ring that adorned his left hand.

"Arthur has told me about him, but he is his son, and naturally we don't all think well of our parents. Although differences of opinion are always found. Their rivalry is more than obvious. Anyway, that one day was enough to know him... he had showed me how frivolous a human being can become."

"Yes, Leon and I had our problems with him, given that dad is very suspicious of his children. I was afraid he would leave me without a boyfriend, when we were invited to spend a vacation in Albion, Arthur's island"

"What kind of person is he?" Colin tried to speak calmly, but in his mind he was creating the image of a possessive, hard man, who wouldn't accept him because he wasn't a woman. "Was he a good father with you?"

"I admire him" Replied Morgause. "I have great respect for him. Life hasn't treated him very well... Not until Arthur appeared in our lives. He made him a successful man and could give him all the things he never had. He lives on the island, but not in the big house...No doubt, Arthur told you he had two houses built when he bought Albion."

"He hasn't told me much about the island. All I know is that we will spend our...our...honeymoon there"

"I think you'll like it" Morgause smiled, building confidence. "All there was when Arthur bought it were the ruins of an old castle, a kind of watchtower used a long time ago, to see pirate ships and to be able to alerting light fires on the slopes and to shoot with the canons from the walls. Those high walls now surround the residence. Arthur built the house inside them and the rest of the ruins was used to create rock gardens and sidewalks. On the walls, you will see engraved the Lion of St Mark, which Leon says is a good coat of arms for Arthur, although my brother prefers dragons."

"For real?" Colin smiled briefly. "Why do you suppose your boyfriend says that?"

"First, because he is still a child in the body of a man... Second, I think he has a fetish regarding his name. What a man!... Third, because he says Arthur is a man with a lion's heart. You know he had to struggle through the path that led him to success. He had nothing, except his brain and courage, and now he has conquered a person as lovable as you."

"Me?" Said Colin in astonishment. "I am very nervous to think his father will reject me because I am not what anyone would expect from his son's partner."

"It is true the Italians are very strict when it comes to marriage," Answered Morgause, "But if you love him, you will triumph over our father."

Colin's heart stopped beating for a moment when he heard the word love, and to hide what might appear in his eyes, he looked at his wristwatch.

"It's time to go, shall we?"

"Yes." Morgause approached Merlin and took his hands. "Don't worry, a wedding in my brother's hands is certainly much less formal than the others. Here, people passing through the street enter when they see a wedding is taking place and the bride and groom aren't alone at the altar because the guests are allowed to stay close to them so that they are witnesses to the ceremony. It's almost like a party."

"Arthur said it would be an intimate ceremony, how many guests are there?"

"About two dozen." Morgause squeezed his hands. "You have to understand Arthur has personal and business friends in this country and they expect to be present at his wedding. It is a primordial matter...." Morgause mischievously smiled, "...as well as the fact that the young woman or man, in this case, he marries has to be a virgin."

Merlin paled in such a way that Morgause thought she would have to hold him in case he fainted.

Fearful of what her brother would do to her if she left him without a betrothed, she decided to change the subject, "Ehm, what about your family and friends?"

"My only brother is traveling abroad." He felt the warmth of Morgause's hands on his. "I have some friends in London, but, for work reasons, it is to be expected they won't come to such a distant place, as Argentina (Buenos Aires) is, for my wedding."

Besides the fact the only friend he would tell was Gaius and he was with his silly older brother.

"Then you must feel very lonely," Morgause said sympathetically. "I'm glad Leon and I are with you. I think my boyfriend will sympathize with you. Now, let me see you to make sure everything is in order."

She examined Colin from head to toe and nodded, approving.

"Your suit is beautiful and the simple style suits you well, as well as the color, which makes your hair stand out. And what beautiful cufflinks!"

"They are a gift from Arthur" Colin brushed it with his hand, caressing its silkiness. "In my family, we have the superstition that rain brings bad luck."

"Shush, you mustn't mention bad luck on your wedding day."

Colin noticed that Morgause crossed herself...she seemed a rather superstitious woman.

"Are you going to bring flowers?" She asked, looking around for them.

He snorted at the mention of that accessory. "Orchids" Colin answered. "Arthur asked to put them in the refrigerator here at the hotel and I have to ask for them at reception. All this... oh, all this is so strange!" A trembling sigh escaped him. "I...I can't believe in half an hour I'll be married."

"Once you're in the church with Arthur, you'll feel calmer. Come..." Morgause led him to the door, "...let's go meet Leon."

Colin felt a tremor in his legs as he and Morgause headed for the elevator. He had taken a cup of coffee but couldn't eat and thought the cold was due to the emptiness in his stomach.

He begged God not to faint at the altar, with those friends and relatives of Arthur looking at him. They would say he was a fool to pass out when he was marrying a rich, powerful and very attractive man.

_Would Arthur feel real pride at having forced him into marriage after buying him with the money that had escaped from his brother's fingers like gold dust?_

***

At the reception, he met Morgause's tall, handsome boyfriend, who abandoned his search as soon as he saw them, and turned toward them, glaring at Colin with his gray/green eyes, highlighted by his sun-bathed face, crowned by his blond-copper abundant hair.

He wasn't as handsome as Arthur, but it attracted attention. He might not always be friendly, but, yes, a gentleman.

"Here you are at last," He said in a low voice, "And the bride?"

"Right in front of you, sweetheart." Morgause pointed to Merlin.

"You are kidding me"

"Leon!"

"I'm sorry, I thought it was one of your many jokes," He said when he saw the expression on his girlfriend and the shame on the face of his brother-in-law's fiancé. "I am really sorry. It was not my intention to offend you...but the invitation said Colìn...and."

"It is Colin. Male."

"Well..."

"Leon!"

"I said nothing."

"No need, I read your crafty thoughts."

Merlin couldn't help but laugh at the couple and they stopped arguing and joined him after noticing.

"Look at the time, tell your brother it wasn't my fault.” He was starting to believe they would spend the day chatting.

"Coward....now, shut your mouth and if you're good for something, my dear, go to reception and ask for the bouquet in the refrigerator."

He arched an eyebrow the same color as his hair. "Colin, I hope it's only your bouquet that remains pretty, cold and distant on your wedding day." He headed for the reception while Morgause laughed.

"Leon has a sarcastic sense of humor and that's why he gets along with my brother, but at the same time he retained some of his Scottish mysticism. I love him with all my heart, but it's impossible to keep him quiet... you love Arthur, don't you?"

There in the lobby, the two of them looked at each other, and suddenly a gesture of pain crossed Morgause' face.

"I knew it!" She exclaimed. "Arthur, that silly brother of mine, started his own Trojan War to find his Helena, didn't he?"

"I'm afraid so" Colin whispered. "You couldn't find a better example..."

Leon returned with the corsage, not caring that people looked at him with a funny smile.

Colin took the exquisite white orchids, with a pale pink on its edges. They were tied with satin ribbons and waved in the wind and rain on the street. The funny looks, which were on Leon, passed to him.

Morgause, Leon and Colin hurried to the luxurious car that would take them to the church. Merlin felt cold despite wearing the lovely light colored leather coat Arthur had gifted him.

He held the orchids carefully, while listening to Leon's deep voice, who was telling him about the island where he and Morgause spent their holidays, the same where he would have his honeymoon with Arthur.

"When did you meet Arthur?" Colin asked.

"A few months ago, when my plantation was in ruins and I needed someone to back me up to start rebuilding it. I have vineyards here. Trying to get in touch with Arthur, I ended up stuck with his sister." He laughed, perhaps remembering some comical episode with his beloved. "I went to the _Diavolo d'Oro_ and met this beautiful young girl, who always helped me, despite risking losing money. But it wasn't the case and now Warlang is growing, the inheritance of our children secured, and all thanks to a man who never had a penny when he was a child."

Colin felt Leon's eyes fixed on his profile as he spoke. _Did he suspect Arthur had bought him as if he were a toy, to compensate for the lack of them during his childhood?_

"I am glad for Morgause and for you," He said, wishing with sadness that this joy was sincere as the car approached the beautiful white-walled church with a blue dome and round stained glass windows.

His heart was pounding. In a few minutes, he would be tied to Arthur Pendragon forever. And when the bells rang their heavy, metallic sounds, Colin accepted his fate.

He accepted his commit, even though thousands of voices in his head shouted not to do it.

In spite of all the fear he felt fluttering like butterflies in his stomach, growing and growing, too frightened by everything that brought him there, the future and all the painful anguish within himself, he accepted it.

Even if that meant going against his principles, his morality, his beliefs and his tastes. Not for money. Not for fear. Now that he knew his fiancé better.

Merlin put his hands on the fire because he had to. No, he knew he could say those perfect words without his brother being at risk. Arthur had told him many times he wasn't obliged to do this. But just now, he understood what was true.

Merlin could stand in front of everyone and say: No. I don't want to. I'm not going to do it.

But he was here. And he would do it. Because he had promised.

He had told Arthur that he would do it. He would do it for real. He would say: of course, I would.

He would say: _Yes, I do_.


	7. El ingenuo

Arthur was waiting for him on the porch of the church, accompanied by a woman, and immediately Colin knew who she was.

Tall and of a thin figure, with dark hair, gathered in an elegant high bun, leaving a few loose curls to caress her temples. That severe style greatly favored her perfectly oval alabaster-skinned face, and accentuated her delicate bone structure and subtle gleam in those wise eyes. She had a seductive and youthful beauty.

Her eyes weren't looking at Colin with the contempt he expected. They were dark and distant, almost sad, and they stared at Colin as he approached in all his paleness with the suit without the coat, which he had left in the car. He had not gotten wet in the rain because an assistant was waiting for him at the door of the car with a large umbrella to protect him.

When he stopped in front of his fiancée’s sister, Colin didn't know if he should smile or not. He had a strange sensation, almost as if he were dreaming, and even when Arthur spoke to him, his voice didn't remove this emotion.

"Let me introduce you my fiancé, sister." Arthur moved to Merlin's side and held his arm quite familiarly.

"I see..." Morgana whispered, searching the floor and returning to them with renewed composure.

Arthur smiled at his sister's effort to keep herself modest. "A few moments ago, you were telling me that if I was going to marry a foreign, at least you expected them to be charming..." He smiled.

Both siblings-in-law gave each other a slight compassionate look, in a few moments; they would be soon relatives.

One was dressed in a fascinating groom's outfit and the other a black, sober dress; her hair tucked into a bun on the nape of the neck, and a few small jetty earrings in her ears. There was a great contrast between the two. They were like light and darkness on Arthur’s both sides.

Then, with a sudden movement, due to her timidity, Morgana stepped forward toward Colin, took his face in her hands and kissed him on both cheeks. "Make my stupid brother happy..." She said in perfect English. Merlin was sure he felt a tear touch his cheek.

"I'll ... I'll try," Merlin replied, not daring to look at Arthur.

A moment later, they were walking arm in arm towards the altar and Colin realized, almost as if in a dream, that people were looking at them... dark eyes shining on faces with tanned skin from the cold shadows, where the light of many candles illuminated the gold and silver icons.

Colin could smell the wax, the scent of incense and the carnations that adorned the lapels of the men present.

He sensed the presence of Arthur's sisters, standing behind them with the godfather, who dressed as soberly as the groom, who was very upright, and contrasted with Colin's white delicacy.

The guests couldn't stop observing and whispering about the surprise partner of the young businessman.

The priest began to sing the phrases of the wedding ceremony.

Arthur had told him on the plane, while flying to Argentina, that during the ceremony, by customs of the Pendragons, the priest would sing the phrase _"The woman must fear the man"_ and then Arthur would send him a nod with his head so that Merlin knew he had to step on one of the blond’s feet.

This was a joke that would cause rejoicing among the guests.

The time came. Arthur nodded with his golden head and Merlin obeyed his directions. Instantly, a wave of laughter was heard in the church.

This lightened Colin's heart a little, but he felt a mortal cold in his hand as he exchanged the gold rings three times before they were finally placed in their right hands to remain there if fate so wanted.

Then the wedding headbands appeared, made of fine skin, imitating branches and flower buds, joined by long and delicate ribbons. The godfather held them over their heads as they sang the final rites of the ceremony. Like with the rings, the crowns were exchanged three times, before the priest made a tour of the altar leading the bride and groom. This act was called the _matrimonial dance_. During that ritual, the guests threw rice, rose petals and sweet almonds.

Colin understood why Arthur had said his family's weddings were less formal than the English ones.

With rose petals stuck in his hair and rice grains pinned to the collar of his shirt, Colin drank the nuptial wine offered by the priest, who then presented them with a silver Bible for Arthur and Colin to kiss.

They were already married and, stunned, Merlin went to the door of the church, arm in arm with his husband, where the guests surrounded them, embracing, kissing and congratulating them. Some of them tried to contain tears of emotion as the bride and groom ran in the rain to the car that would lead them into the lounge where they were to celebrate the wedding.

Afternoon was coming to an end, attracting the cold north winds.

Inside the car, Arthur covered his shoulders in a hug and, instantly, Merlin recognized his possessiveness in that gesture.

"You were amazing" He said.

"I hope your friends have been very impressed." He let himself be enveloped by the warmth of that body, remembering that in front of the church door, he had delivered the wedding headband to Morgana, who had pressed it against herself, as if seeking solace in it.

"My sisters like you" He murmured.

"I like them, too," Said Colin. It had been a relief to discover that these girls were not so hostile with someone who appeared again from nowhere and was imposed on them as a new relative.

His sisters-in-law were too different from one another. Colin wondered if they had different mothers, just like their brother. One was introverted and not a dominant and jealous woman, as were many young women, and the other seemed the portrait of despair and serenity.

"Cannot you offer a little sympathy to your husband?" Arthur asked sharply. "I am the only male son of this family, they are two, and you saw the kind of women they are. Remember they want to see me happy..."

Colin looked at him blankly, allowing him to take his right hand to admire the gleaming gold ring on his finger. "You're blackmailing me with your sisters"

"When the guests arrive to the reception, try to look like a happy husband and not like a fighter or worse, a widower."

"You knew I didn't want the fuss and hassle of a reception party."

"Come on, it would be a mistake not to share cake and champagne on our wedding day with the people who came to wish us happiness. Be reasonable, my love, stop being a child"

"My wishes are always childish," He replied. "Your word is the only thing that matters."

Arthur clenched his fingers and didn't deny the accusation.

"Are you afraid that your friends will find out I am your husband because you forced me?" He teased.

"I prefer they think, if only for my sisters’ sake, that you are my husband because you want to... I am not so denatured to enjoy them saying I have you against your will"

"Are you saying it could hurt you?" Colin smiled at the thought. "I was beginning to think that your hard and cold armor was impenetrable."

"I'm not invulnerable when it comes to my sisters." His expression hardened. "If you hurt them in any way, you will suffer for it...You are warned."

Colin looked down, resenting Arthur's ease at frightening him when his expression grew hard and his eyes glittered with the anger he had suffered, the insults and the pain of never being invited to share the warmth of the home of some neighbor.

Margaret, that proud woman had fought alone to feed and clothe a child that wasn't her own. Margaret deserved his respect. And now, it was his turn to take care of his sisters and never allow them to suffer what he did, due to hunger and cold.

Morgause had mentioned that the men of his family could be very passionate and Colin could clearly see the protective passion Arthur felt for his family.

Even if he refused to admit it.

"I would never dare hurt your sisters," He assured him. "They didn't have to be gentle today, but they were. I am not the pleasant and docile girl that they had expected to marry their brother and therefore, they were under no obligation to accept me."

"They accept you for me. I am all they have and now you are a part of me, like one of my arms." His voice and hand were cold and hard when he said that, as well as when he took Merlin's chin and forced him to look at him. "You don't ask your partner to fear you, but you expect him to understand that he belongs to you, once you are married. You belong to me, Merlin. Each of your hair is mine, every inch of your white skin, every drop of your sweat and every tear of your eyes are mine. I am not saying this for the money, I am saying this because it is the truth."

Slowly, he brought Merlin's hand to his mouth and Colin felt the warm pressure of his lips on his skin.

"There are many pebbles on the beach and many of them are attractive. The man spends part of his life acting as if the world was a beach and his partners the pebbles he feels impelled to pick up, to caress for a while and then discard. Suddenly, there is a pebble that he cannot let escape and he decides to take it to make it his possession... You are my possession. To hell with the silly sentimental oaths that so many people make and then break"

"People don't break just oaths," Colin reminded him.

"Hearts too, isn't it, dear?" He asked mockingly, pressing his hand against his jaw that he had shaven that morning with no soap or water to prove his masculinity, according to family tradition. "Do you really believe, my love, that the heart is the seat of the passions?"

Merlin blushed at the sarcastic smile that lit his eyes.

"I... I was talking about love."

"Love?" Arthur arched a golden eyebrow. "That is a very provocative word and I wonder what you mean by it."

"You know very well what I mean."

Merlin jerked his chin away. Arthur's hands slid to his neck, which was more sensitive to the touch, more vulnerable in its softness to the deliberate caresses of his fingers, slender but hardened fingers of a man who worked with them for many years, doing hard work, the kind of Merlin couldn't even imagine and that had left a person like his brother Gwaine broken.

Honestly, he could understand Arthur's motives for pushing him, but it seemed it didn't matter to him that Merlin kept resisting being his, without love.

"I agree that our relationship won't be good material for a romantic novel" He said slowly. "All the romanticism I can offer you is a trip to our Island. It's a shame it's raining, but maybe it'll stop this afternoon and you can contemplate the beauty of Albion... the sea of the islands from where some men sail and never return home. When the sun is upon it, it is as if it is casting gold into the sea. You'll love it, honey."

As he spoke, Merlin felt dwarfed by his broad chest and the tanned skin of his hands and face. Just his appearance was a threat. Unlike other people, they hadn’t united by mutual desire. Arthur got him in exchange for money and Merlin felt in debt to him and very humiliated by this situation.

"Our story would be perfect for a thriller"

"I give you what I can!" Said Arthur. "I am not used to consider my partner as a sacred relic that I must worship."

"I never imagined that, Arthur."

"But it's what you hope?" When he was upset, his tanned face became almost fierce, his eyes glittering, burning with his intensity in the gloom of the car.

"It would be useless." Merlin shrugged.

"Then, for God's sake, what are we talking about? We're two newlyweds heading to the wedding feast. Look at you, you are wearing a beautiful outfit, as well as these cufflinks that I had made especially for you and your husband has his own island and..."

"No. You know I'm not interested in the power you have or in the money you so fancy, Arthur."

His hand tightened on Merlin's throat, as if he wanted to strangle him, but when Colin didn't utter a sound and just look at him, as if waiting for him to do it, he loosened his grip and pulled away from him violently.

"Men are proud, but you are the worst...very well, as we say in England, chastity is the prize reserved for a couple without love, you can give me that, even if it is all you have."

"You are quite sure of that, Arthur" Only the physical torture would have prevented Colin from uttering those words, as a desperate attempt to plant the seed of doubt in his mind.

"I'm sure of it" Arthur said arrogantly.

"Perhaps you would be if I were a maid," Replied Colin, "But I am not, and besides, I am Greek, it seems very old-fashioned to us to expect women to be pure as falling snow, while men enjoy everything they can before marriage. This double morality is no longer practiced in my country."

"I suppose it's true, Mer, and I won't doubt that many enjoy everything they can, but I don't need to be clairvoyant to know how you are. You are dismissive, baby. That's what makes you hate me for having forced you into marry me. You're the kind of guy who still enjoys thinking about that special person. The perfect person."

"You mean a princess with a great dowry, or a prince on his white horse with a silver and shining armor and an appearance of gallantry. Don't joke, Arthur. You're taking me for a naive," He protested.

"No," He shook his head, "For an idealist."

He didn't argue with him because, to a certain extent, he was right. His arrogance was very apparent in the exquisite grace of his cheekbones and in the color of his eyes as he sat there, his face almost hidden in his husband's great neck, as if he was truly adoring his first minutes of true marriage.

In a hidden corner of his mind, he wished Gwaine could have been like Arthur, a successful man, dashing, very serious and formal in business.

"You're the most helpless boy I've ever known," Arthur told him. "You're like the snow a man could trample." His gaze seemed to penetrate into the depths of his eyes. "Being together, you and me, is as it should have always been"

"That's what you keep repeating, Arthur, to relieve your guilt."

"My guilt?"

"Yes, because you are a man and you like to think you can have what you want, when you want it. I am not a toy you can play with."

Arthur narrowed his eyes, threatening, and a terrible golden glow escaped them, through the black lashes.

"Be careful about what you say when you talk to me like that," He warned. "You're walking on a dangerous ground, my love."

"I've been walking on dangerous ground ever since I met you, Arthur. I have been stepping on quicksand since I was in Camelot, and to finish it off, my brother agreed to give you the writings of my parents' property. All because of your evil plans. My brother should have never worked for you..."

Then Merlin opened his eyes in front of the light in his memory.

"No! All this, all this... it started when I met you in that fruit market. I remember your dangerous aspect and the speed with which you moved away when your sisters tried to get your attention. You were so distant from the whole world. I should have ignored you since day one. I am no longer surprised you have us in your hands. You were unlike any other person I had seen. You weren't a rider in pants and riding boots, not one of those simple men my father used to gather to chat and drink with. That day I should have guessed your evil shadow was going to change my life, stealing its light."

"My God, help me control myself!" Murmured Arthur, gritting his teeth. "I didn't ruin your family. Your brother did it by himself. I collected the spoils of your life that he had left at the gambling tables. We've talked about this before, and I'm beginning to feel annoyed! You're ruining our wedding day!"

"Good!" Colin answered. "Hearing you say that is the only thing I've enjoyed today."

"You're welcome," He said sarcastically, thanking him. "You're asking me to teach you a lesson when we're alone in Albion."

"But your father will be there."

"My father will stay somewhere else with some friends during the two weeks of our honeymoon."

"I see."

Merlin felt his heart skip a beat as he realized what being alone with Arthur meant. He looked at his shoulders covered by the expensive cloth of his suit and felt threatened. His hands were strong and full of life, the gold ring proclaimed the right that these hands had to caress his body.

Merlin looked at him in the eye and knew he was reading his thoughts, as if they were written on his forehead.

"Yes," He murmured, "We'll be alone, except for the few servants who tend to the house and gardens. Our neighbors are a few goats and the dolphins swimming near the beach. Get ready to receive your due, darling"

And he did not say it coldly, but he uttered the words with a deliberate sensuality, leaning toward Merlin and drawing close enough to breath in the scent of his skin and hair. He felt his masculinity enveloping him, leaving him helpless while he fell into his spell as he took his face in his hands and kissed his eyes, slowly descending his face, until at last he moved his lips to his mouth.

Then, as he withdrew a little, Merlin looked into his eyes and saw his pallor reflected in the dark pupils, dilated by lust.

Merlin remained impassive, because there was nothing deep in Arthur's feelings. He just wanted his body. The ceremony in the church, with its bright colors and incense, hadn't been the culmination of his romantic dreams.

A sigh escaped his lips and touched the blond's.

Instantly, Arthur narrowed his eyes and the small image of Merlin was caught between his blond eyelashes.

"You are lucky" He said, "that I have an inexhaustible amount of patience, which many of my compatriots lack. I cannot imagine where I got it, but you must be grateful for it. Another man would hold your shoulders and shake you to turn you into a rag doll with his kisses. Kisses, my love, are just the prelude to passion."

"Passion!" Colin looked at him with contempt. "That is all I am to you, the object of your passion."

"Of course" He snapped bitingly. "Now you show yourself brave with your insults, but don't forget that I am very vindictive."

"I know exactly what kind of man you are," Merlin replied, with a defiant attitude. "You have the same things as all men who achieved success by themselves: nerves and feelings of steel."

"I don't allow insolence from another man, much less if he is my husband."

Those words shook him violently. They were possessive and reminded him of those other words in the church _"A woman should fear her husband."_

Merlin had practically become that woman. One that had to submit to the cravings of the master, that he had to comply.

"You cannot stop me from saying what I think," Said Colin, "Unless you think of cutting my tongue. I think they used to do it, a long time ago, to the women of a harem and then, they were thrown away..."

"No doubt" He laughed briefly. "What a vivid imagination you have, my dear child… that is why your brother managed to convince you that I was determined to take your virtue!"

Arthur leaned back in his seat. In the silence that followed his words, Merlin heard the rain falling on the roof of the luxurious car.

"My dear husband, I never meant to hand over your brother...because that would have only hurt you!" He arched an eyebrow. "But you came to my club believing his story that, in exchange for you, I would let him escape. You accused me of setting him up, when all I did was give him the only job he could do... being among players who liked Gwaine's sleek and gentle style. My beloved naive boy, I never tried to take you in exchange for your brother's freedom, but he convinced you of it. I haven't set a trap on any of you... You offered yourself innocently and I am not a man to turn down a gift from the gods. You're very attractive, baby, and I'm tired of being alone. I am happy with you, even if you don't love me."

He snapped his fingers in contempt.

"This is what I think of love: love is an enigma."

"You mean," Colin looked at him in disbelief, "that I could have left the Camelot Club free, with no obligation to be with you?"

Arthur nodded; the look in his eyes was mocking.

"That night... I could have gone home to Gwaine and tell him he had nothing to fear?" His heart was pounding and he was breathing hard.

"Yes"

"But you made me believe you would retaliate if I didn't marry you."

Deep down he knew Arthur was not a bully. But knowing this was so outrageous.

"Yes," Arthur confessed without shame.

Merlin wanted to do something that would free him from the tension in his body. He removed the ring from his finger and threw it at Arthur. The gold ring struck his shoulder, falling into the fold of his arm, where he caught it.

"You'll know what to do with it" He said angrily. "I never wanted to marry you and I'm not going to stay married to you!"

"You will, my dear." Suddenly Arthur's eyes became deadly. "You will not ridicule me in front of our guests. Do it and I won't hesitate to send a notice to the police that there is a thief to be arrested"

"You wouldn't." Though Merlin uttered the words, he knew it was in vain, because the blond's face had become hard and his eyes had a sinister glow.

"Try it" Arthur said in a cold voice. "Escape as soon as we arrive at the reception and you will see very soon that your dear brother has been sent behind the bars. This time, Merlin, every word I've said is very serious, this time we're not playing. You married me and I won't let a little boy like you leave me standing there alone. I know you won't do it... for Gwaine"

"You're bluffing, Arthur"

He denied with his head.

"No, not now, my dear. When you went to Club Camelot, you were the young Colin Morgan. Now you are my husband and if you love your brother, and I know you do, you are going to enter that hall with me and smile at my friends as an obedient husband, do you understand?"

As he said this, he took Colin's right hand and put the gold ring back on, which Colin now felt like a shackle.

His cold hand trembled and his whole body shuddered to the beat of his heart.

"Damn you," He murmured.

Arthur shrugged. "That's the deduction you got in the Camelot Club and that's why you're here, with me, right now. You set your own trap"

Colin's eyes were filled with tears. He turned his face away, trying to contain them, so his clever husband wouldn't notice.

What a situation! Two newlywed people and their enmity was already as palpable as the thud of the rain on the roof of the car.


	8. Nuestro Hogar

When they got out of the car, the guests were already there to greet them and Colin found out why the trip had been so long. The driver had been ordered to take the longest route, so that friends could arrive earlier.

Colin played his role in the farce: he put on a mask that smiled and concealed the terrible anguish that was seizing his heart and that had only been calmed for the moment by the excellent champagne that was served in abundance during the two hours of the reception.

Morgause embraced Colin fondly and looked into his eyes with a sympathetic expression and said, "Merlin, you must come and visit Leon and me in our apartment."

Morgause, trying to avoid laughing at what she had said, swallowed and then looked at Merlin and laughed softly, which made many guests turn to their direction, unable to avoid it.

"Morg, please, what is this..." Her boyfriend demanded, while Colin wished to be widowed. He could almost imagine himself strangling his now husband.

Many at that wedding had been amused to know the name of the "partner" of the businessman. And it's because an Arthur and a Merlin don't get married every day...

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that I remembered your name and... and..." Morgause tried to calm down, but it was so much fun for her.

"I'm sorry, Merlin... my girlfriend is still a child"

"Leon"

"Yes."

"You called me Merlin."

"Isn't that your name?"

"I'd better get another drink."

Merlin rolled his eyes, hearing the couple laugh behind his back. They didn't do it with evil, Merlin knew it, but they were still doing it.

Arthur surprisingly gave him his space, while talking to some businessmen, but still kept his eyes on him.

Merlin felt a tickle all over his body every time he saw those eyes fixed on his figure. _What the hell was that guy thinking?_ His half smile made him blush and the wink made him understand what perhaps his "beloved" husband had in mind.

**...**

"There are many acres of trees to make wooden furniture and the beach is a dream." A boy told him, almost with stars in his eyes, delighted and dazzled with his husband's Island.

Merlin wanted to change role with him, and leave him in his place, even if he liked the island. But being Arthur his martyrdom... "Husband"...Merlin supposed that more than role, he would have to change his body so that Arthur would let him go... and yet, the devil would want the whole package, bone and soul all together.

Merlin didn't know what was worse: to bear with the young man who blindly admired his husband, or the woman who spoke like a parrot.

"I would very much like you to meet our twins, Terence and Shaun..."

If that woman did not shut up, Colin would scream or break the glass and stick it in his own neck, making Arthur a widower... That boy would surely comfort his husband. "...Our residence is modest, but charming. It is on the island of the cousin of your husband. He is practically our neighbor. When you come to visit you can have a look."

"And if you come just for some reason," Merlin was startled to hear that voice behind him. "You can be sure that your stay at Demon Blue will make things seem less depressing." He was a tall man with a tanned complexion.

Merlin's pulse quickened.

The woman left them alone.

Merlin didn't even notice her absence, he was too busy watching the intruder's eyes. There was something very sexy in their dark and intensity. His hair was dark and short.

"Ex-Excuse me. Who are you?"

"Lancelot, at your service" He took Colin's right hand and gave him a soft chaste kiss on the back of it.

Merlin looked at his hand, surprised for what the man had just done. Another that was treating him like a damsel. Probably Arthur's relative.

"I hope my formalism doesn't bother you."

"Eh? Oh, no... Unfortunately, I'm getting used to it."

Lancelot arched an eyebrow at that.

"Just ... out of curiosity, Lancelot is really your name, or it's a joke from Morgause?"

He gave a soft chuckle. Merlin realized he was making fun of him.

"Calm... calm down... don't be mad. Lancelot is my real name. I was just amused to see how fast you have met Cousin Morgause."

Merlin held Lancelot's smile, “It's impossible not to be the center of her fun, right?” and both clashed glasses.

**...**

Arthur gritted his teeth at the interaction between those two. "If you’d excuse me"

**…**

As he was talking comfortably with that distinguished man, another, more serious, approached .

"We meet again."

The newcomer was tall, large, and had a hard face, like carved in teak wood. He had blond hair, as short as a soldier, and his eyes were an intense dark green.

Merlin watched him for a few seconds, he was sure they had. To be polite, he nodded.

"Percival ... it's a bit of a giant, but it's sweet when you get to know him better."

"I see."

"Sorry to interrupt your talk." He turned to Lancelot. "But we have business to attend..." He look at Merlin again. "And, by the way ... I wish you much happiness."

"Thank you."

"Well, you know, when you like, you're welcome to my Island."

When both men left. Percival turned and made a slight bow with his head and smiled sideway to Colin. Merlin remembered him, he was the man he stumbled the day he sentenced his freedom with. That was the first time he'd been to Camelot Club.

**…**

Slowly, Merlin stepped out onto the balcony.

Behind the room was a large lagoon, belonging to the large park where they used to do sporting events, such as tennis. Above that immense lagoon was his balcony.

Colin stood by the railing and remembered Lancelot's invitation. If only he could be miles away, on that other island, just now! Far from this marriage that offered only material advantages, but was devoid of the riches of love.

A fresh breeze was blowing and he was glad to feel that freedom, tiny, but freedom nevertheless.

He sat on the balustrade and looked thoughtfully at the moonless sky. The stars twinkled against the black velvet of the night.

His hands clung to the railing and he felt the swirl of emotions stirring inside him. No detail of that night in the club escaped his memory. He saw Arthur again, standing in front of the dark red curtains, tall and resolute, while allowing him to set his own trap by letting him think he intended to make Merlin pay with his body for what Gwaine had stolen.

Curiously, it was very difficult to accept that Arthur had allowed him to deceive himself. Merlin wanted... he needed to believe that he had a heart as black as his sense of humor, that he was just an Italian cheat owner of a gambling casino.

Now he was at the reception in honor of his already sealed marriage and the truth was like a pain that almost assaulted his body.

Everything spun in his mind... scenes of the wedding ceremony appeared vividly before his eyes and, suddenly, he was falling and couldn't stop it.

He fell into the void, out of nowhere, his scream fading as he hit the water, penetrating into a tumult of fragments of liquid jade.

The violent surprise cut his breath and everything turned black ... he came back to himself when the sun played on his face and over him was a very serious, wet male face.

Involuntarily, his trembling body spun on the floor and vomited the water that had suddenly entered it. Strong hands gripped him as he, dizzy and disgusted, spat out the water, almost drowning, and lay exhausted in his soaked suit.

Arthur swore as he watched.

"I didn't imagine," He said grimly, "that your unhappiness would turn into desperation"

Colin blinked and his exhaustion left him with no force, turning him into a heavy bundle in Arthur's strong arms, when he lifted him up to take him to one of the special rooms of the residence. Merlin felt himself descend and then darkness reigned in his brain and he lost consciousness.

He relived at the cognac contact in his mouth and felt an arm gripping him firmly. As the liquor returned heat to his cold body, he realized he was naked and covered with several blankets.

"You... you took off my clothes?" He asked in a daze.

"You didn't think I was going to call a member of the party to do it, right?" His eyes were threatening; the dismay they reflected was more dangerous than any outburst of fury. "Little fool, throwing yourself into the lake from that height...It could have caused you a cardiac arrest!"

As if in slow motion, Colin reflected on his words, then it all came back to him and he felt the brutal impact again, as he hit the surface of the water.

"I must have fainted," He said weakly. "I was feeling dizzy."

"No." Shaking his head, a few drops of water splashed on his pale face. "You threw yourself from the balustrade."

"No," Colin said firmly, shaking his head. "I would never do such a thing"

"You wouldn't?" Arthur fixed his eyes on his white face, his teeth clenched. "Fortunately, I heard your scream and jumped after you to help you... I loved throwing myself in the water the day of my wedding to rescue my silly husband. By all the gods, what did you want to do?? Killing yourself?"

Colin shook his head, tiredly. "Do you think I would have screamed if I wanted that?" He said thoughtfully but couldn't be sure of what had happened. He was very confused... and he had been absorbed in his thoughts by the railing, while Arthur was at his business meetings, arguing with a member of his company.

He felt himself come out of a whirlpool and tiredly rubbed his aching shoulder, perhaps by the force with which Arthur had held him to get him out of the water.

"Are you injured?" Arthur pushed his hand away from his shoulder and, gasping, looked up. "You have bruises. I must have hurt you when I dragged you out of the water."

"You talk as if I was a fish!" He laughed suddenly, almost as if sobbing. "Sorry Arthur, maybe I drank too much champagne and stirred with... with all that incense in the church. It has been too much for me."

"Too much for _you_, honey?" He slid his fingers into his filthy hair. "How do you think I am feeling? It is unforgivable that you have done such a thing."

"Arthur" His gaze was fixed on his face. "I don't remember doing it on purpose."

"I know what you wanted…" He said quietly, gritting his teeth. "You wanted to escape the chains of our marriage, but it isn't so simple. Although your brain directed actions, your body rejected it and cried out for help. What would have happened if I had allowed you to disappear into the depths of that lake?"

Colin panicked at the thought of it. Although he couldn't explain how he had fallen from that height, Colin knew he hadn't jumped on his will.

Arthur rose to his feet. A shiver ran through his powerful body.

"You're very wet," Colin said. "Go change your clothes, you are dripping water everywhere"

"Maybe I'm going to die of a cold, dear" He said cruelly, speaking over his shoulder. "Wouldn't that be a better solution for you? That way, you would inherit all my fortune."

"Arthur, please, don't say such things," He pleaded. "They make it seems like I want to see you dead"

"And isn't it the case?"

He turned to him and his features were illuminated by the light that penetrated through the window. The rain had hidden the sun again and was accompanied by a storm.

The light flashed and faded and Colin curled up into the blankets, his pale face framed by wet hair.

"What did you do with my...wedding suit?" He asked.

"Your wedding suit?" Arthur repeated wryly. "Why do you want to know?"

A soft blush covered the pallor of his face. "It was a nice outfit, it must have been ruined"

"Completely," He agreed, "like everything else."

Colin stared at him in silence as he headed for the door.

"Try to sleep," He said, "And don't worry about the storm. We leave in a few hours, for our home."

"Arthur..."

"Do you want to say something?"

Arthur didn't look at him again. He was a tall man, erect with pride, dressed in the dark suit that was now soaked with water from a dirty lake and the white shirt that no longer looked so flawless.

"I'm sorry," was all Colin could say.

"Sleep" He ordered, "…and forget."

He left after saying those words, closing the door firmly behind him.

Colin lay still, not caring that his hair was still wet.

He cuddled up, watched the flashing light from the beams and heard the thunder that sounded out there.

***

Arthur woke him up as promised. With a helicopter, they arrived to the harbour, where Arthur had his precious "_Nymph of the North_".

They departed at dawn.

It had ceased to rain and the sun returned to cover the sea with its golden light.

The water was agitated and undulated by the passage of the ship, which, having been made on request, was longer than the other English vessels similar to this one. It was wider, with more space for the under-deck bedrooms. The painting shined and on one side, a glittering fairy was drawn, representing its name. The ship was inlaid with mahogany and its furnishings were a perfect combination of soft comfort and the beauty of the classic lines that Colin had noticed in the decorations of the Camelot Club.

Arthur suggested sleeping a little more, given his drawn appearance.

"The_ Nymph of the North_ can withstand the blows. I will wake you when we get to Albion."

His husband was worried about his health.

The boat began to sway with the movement of the water, agitated by the storm, and like a huge cradle, lulled him until at last he fell asleep.

Between dreams, he heard someone calling him and felt the caress of warm fingers on his face. He opened his eyes. The lamps in his cabin were lit and the ship was no longer swinging.

Arthur had put on a black turtleneck and trousers and held a cup of hot coffee in his hand.

"Come, sit and drink this, then get up. You can already see the island. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes."

Colin sat down and accepted the coffee. His throat ached probably due the water he swallowed and gratefully drank the hot sweet coffee.

"Get on the deck when you're ready," Arthur said and left again.

Colin noticed that he acted as if he were a stranger. Anyway, the coffee returned him to life and when he got off the bed, he discovered that his weakened legs had regained their firmness.

Their bags were there. Someone had picked them up at the hotel where they had been staying, while Merlin was in the church with Arthur, so there was no problem about underwear, a shirt and jeans to wear instead of the ruined wedding suit. He went to the bathroom to wash and tidy his hair.

The suit and the delicate underwear, of the same fabric and color, were not there.

As he combed his hair in front of the mirror, he thought that in his fury Arthur must have thrown them away or burned them.

As he looked at his eyes in the mirror, he had again the sensation that he hadn't jumped on purpose.

Half-faceted in front of the mirror, he could see his right shoulder, which still hurt. The bruise was quite large and of a dark purple color. He recalled that with any blow, large bruises would appear on his skin and so he supposed Arthur had hurt him, involuntarily, while rescuing him.

A tremor shook him. It was alarming to discover he was capable of performing an action that his brain refused to remember.

Gaius once explained to him that humans were sometimes at the mercy of impulses that they didn't quite understand. They were forced to commit actions that were unrelated to their normal behavior, due to some painful event in their lives that they hadn't yet been able to solve.

Colin combed his hair, regretting not being able to hide his pallor. 

Five minutes later, he climbed the stairs leading to the deck of the _Nymph of the North_. He was many miles away from that store, where Gaius used to read the Tarot cards and tried to tear the veils that covered the fate of people. There, on the deck, was Merlin's fate in the tall dark figure of Arthur Pendragon, and he approached it slowly, as the boat sailed to the cliffs of Albion.

After the storm, the sun was receding, drawing in the sky a spider web of red and gold colors, with bruises, like the bruises on Colin's shoulder.

These cliffs seemed to have been drawn out of a petrified flame. The wild beauty of the landscape made him breathless.

The ship bow broke the golden surface of the water and Arthur looked at him sideways, indifferent.

"These islands..." He said, "...were the commercial centers of the Venetians and their naval bases. During the day, Albion bathes with the sun and the sea, like a great golden Dragon. It's a lonely island that has always attracted me."

Arthur had already used the word _lonely_ some time, and Colin perceived that it was an adequate description of Arthur, in spite of the financial successes that allowed him to rub shoulders with the people who enjoyed a pleasant social life.

This island in the Aegean was his real world and not the seventh street club in the Orchid district, or the house in the fields of Demon Blue, where Colin wanted to be.

***

The ship circled a promontory in the bay of the island and anchored there. They lowered a boat so that Merlin and his husband could reach the beach, sheltered by the powerful cliffs that seemed to protect the island.

A cable car took them to the promontory where a Range Rover Evoque was waiting for them to take them to the mansion. A servant with curly black hair was driving the vehicle.

From time to time, as they crossed the harsh ground, the man threw glances of curiosity at Colin. _So this is the husband of his boss_, seemed to say his look... a pale boy, curled up in an expensive coat, as if he were cold.

_Where was his smile and why did he sit so far away from his husband, when he should be very close to him?_

Colin guessed the questions in his head. He had seen a waiter at the reception, who had watched him in the same way, almost with hostility, while he served the champagne to the newlyweds, as if these people didn't agree to accept him as Arthur's life partner.

Merlin understood their feelings, because he was as proud of his origin as they were to be mafia.

Of course they would have preferred for their boss to marry one of their compatriots, with dark hair and dark skin that was part of the wild beauty of the landscape and the sea. One that would give him the fruit of fertility so that thousands of children would run around.

As Colin thought this, he felt resentful at the way he was judged.

They should have seen him riding on the field, his hair dancing in the wind, his eyes bright, enjoying the moment and freedom.

In his own world, Merlin was as full of life and as cheerful as any Greek. He loved the long, idyllic summers, when the grass grew high on the slopes. He left the house at dawn, not to miss a minute of the day, overflowing with youth and carefree, not realizing that in the future he would lose everything…that his parents would go one after another, never to return, and that his brother would give him to the best bidder thanks to his feverish passion for the game, which would dilute him of his inheritances.

He was startled when he felt Arthur taking his hand.

"In a moment, you will see the ancient Venetian walls surrounding the villa. They were still intact and it would have been a shame to knock them down. My little one, your hand is so cold! I hope you don’t have a cold...that would spoil our honeymoon."

Colin felt him looking at him and the fact that his concern was in relation to his own expectations of pleasure made him grit his teeth. It was almost impossible for him to endure what it meant to him, an object of desire that he already regarded as his own, just as this island and the villa he had built there.

Suddenly, the Range Rover passed over tall stone pillars, from which huge cobbled walls surrounded the property.

"We're here," Said Arthur. “We are home."

It was he who came home. Colin felt the remoteness of all that was familiar.

Arthur smiled and anxiously got out of the car as soon as he stopped.

They heard the barking of a woolly fierce-looking dog, which threw himself at Arthur, putting his paws on his chest, his tail twitching from side to side.

"Kilgharrah, old friend, I missed you, too." Arthur turned to Merlin, showing his white teeth. "He is an old and kind giant, so don't be afraid."

"I've never feared anything that walks on all fours," He replied, and without any fear, stroked the huge dog and allowed him to sniff at his fur coat, which he began to pound with his muzzle and nearly knocked him over.

"Kilgharrah! Don't be rude, or I'll turn you into a carpet." Arthur put an arm around Colin's waist and pointed to the villa. "Maybe it's not the home where you were born, but it's quite nice, don't you think?"

Merlin smiled forcibly. The lamps on the walls drew mysterious shadows on the walls and windows of the huge Greek-style house, and the night air smelled of pine.

Colin took a deep breath to calm himself and felt better.

"Il Mio Castello" Murmured Arthur. "_My castle_, built on the ruins of an old Venetian fort, but inside, it has modern details and comfortable beds."

It seemed to Colin that he emphasized these last words, and though he refrained from looking at Arthur, he almost guessed that he was smiling sarcastically.

They entered the house by the main door, built so that it was embedded in the great thickness of the wall, which was a Greek precaution against the tremors. Carpets of bright colors adorned the slate-colored stone floor and in the center was a huge angular rock that, Colin was told, was a welcome symbol.

"Those Turkish stoves fascinate me and they're very hot in winter," Arthur said, running his hand through the tiles.

The corridor was so long that the end was lost in the gloom, but in the center was a minaret stove, decorated with wrought iron and covered with mosaic tiles.

Merlin realized that he was not the only Greek Arthur liked. Everything had a style of his ancestors. Arthur had a damn obsession with his lineage. He must have been born Russian... or something.

Colin looked around, wide-eyed.

Beneath the windows and 

lamps with colored glass that imitated jewels, he saw leather that covered a couch, so large that half a dozen people could sit on it. In fact, it looked like the sofa of a barbarian ... his heart gave a twist as he realized that there were oriental tendencies in the man who built and furnished this house according to his own taste. The hardness of his character was disguised by layers of a richer and more sensual personality.

How different from his parents' house, with the somber atmosphere that the oak provided, inside the stonewalls.

Colin wanted to find defects in this house, on the island of Albion, but his senses betrayed him.

He was fascinated by the general effect of the icons, framed in silver and placed on a side table that matched other pieces of solid, hand-carved wood.

He watched the flickering silver and jeweled light of the lamps and the purple reflection that the furniture wood projected on the very white walls, whose windows were so deep embedded in them that on the windowsill they had placed cushions, framed by luxurious dark curtains.

Followed by the servants carrying their luggage, they went upstairs. Colin's hand slid over the painted iron of the beautiful railing. At the end of the staircase, Colin looked down the hallway, looking again at its exotic appearance.

It was an almost Byzantine beauty, as if Arthur needed to compensate for the cold poverty of his childhood.

"Are not you impressed?" He asked with some irony.

"Well, you said this place is your castle," He said. "It is yours to decorate according to your own taste, to be a reflection of your personality. Men of the East have always kept their treasures within simple walls, haven't they?"

"Well, do you understand me now?"

Colin fixed his gaze on his face, realizing that his beauty and conservative clothing accentuated all the differences between them: origin, culture, and sexual preferences.

A wave of weakness flooded him, which must have been very apparent in his face because suddenly Arthur took him in his arms and carried him the rest of the way to the huge bedroom that was hidden behind the beautiful doors, worthy of a chapel.


	9. Luna de Miel

So, he was already in the villa where he would spend their honeymoon, those romantic days of discoveries that were sometime of joy and sometime of disillusionment for the honeymooners that were very much in love.

Merlin refreshed his skin with a cologne, and through the vanity mirror, he saw the bed framed by a transparent knit veil that adorned the encrusted woods. A Turkish bed, his husband had informed him. A mocking look had flashed in Arthur's eyes, when Merlin couldn't control the urge to look elsewhere.

"Straight out of a harem, I suppose," Said Merlin disdainfully.

At the party to honor the new marriage, Arthur had again made use of his gallantry by placing a gold chain on his neck with the insignia "Pendragon" in a small circle, held by the claws of a dragon made of gold.

The necklace was pure formalism. It meant the prejudice that the family was what the couple needed. Accepting him as one more member, and it was the only thing that helped him conserve his body, after Arthur had removed his wet clothes at the party.

He was wearing it that night, almost like a gesture of fatalism.

Sophia, the maid, entered the room with the cup of tea Merlin had ordered. He had put a tea bag in his suitcase, feeling he couldn't survive two weeks without his favorite drink. He had taken that one habit when he moved to London with his parents. He liked coffee, but it always made him thirsty, so he preferred a good cup of tea. He accepted the steaming cup, expressing his thanks in a whisper.

He had discovered that Sophia spoke little English, so they talked with a bit of difficulty. The young woman had told him she normally worked with the sisters of master Arthur, but that in the next few weeks she would attend Merlin.

She was very attractive, had blond hair, braided and fastened on top of her head. She wore a dress with wide sleeves and a white, scarlet apron.

There, in the bathroom that looked like a marble cave, she would come in and out as Merlin relaxed in the bathtub, and perhaps did so with the intention of seeing the white-skinned Greek when he came out of the water, covered with aromatic bubbles, peach-colored.

Merlin had deceived her. He asked for the tea, knowing full well that in such a large house, it wouldn't be easy for the cook to find a suitable vessel to prepare it. He smiled as he drank the liquid. Being a person who worked, he was used to bathing and getting dressed quickly, so he could reach the bus every morning.

He noticed that Sophia was looking at him. His classic outfit, like the rest of his wardrobe, his shirts and t-shirts had a perfect cut, in the style and color that accentuated Merlin's pallor.

He enjoyed the freedom of the bathroom. Arthur had informed him he had his own sauna and a squash court, where he would be welcome if he wanted to join him in the mornings. He'd slapped his flat belly as he spoke, implying that he wanted it to stay that way.

"You have very nice clothes, young man" Sophia was checking the built-in closet and the fabrics creaked as she moved the t-shirts, jeans, and suits.

Of course he did. Arthur had been in charge of emptying the department stores of the shopping centers of Argentina, the days they were organizing the wedding.

Sophia turned again to look at Merlin, and her dark eyes narrowed in thought.

"No one knew that the young master was getting married. It has been a great surprise for his sisters, especially for Miss Morgana" Sophia uttered each word in English, deliberately, which seemed to add a meaning that Merlin didn't fail to notice.

"I hope... Lady Pendragon wasn't very upset," He said.

Sophia shrugged and brought a hand to her braided hair. "He's all they have, given their complicated relationship with their father and the rest of the family. She cried that night, when she received the news that the ship brought, which makes constant trips to bring provisions and letters.”

"Oh yeah?" Merlin stirred the tea leaves in the bottom of his cup, and he wished he could read them, like Gaius, and find some message of hope regarding this marriage that Arthur forced his sisters and him to accept both.

"I'm sorry that this news caused her a displeasure," He said, referring to Morgana. "I realize it must have been unexpected, but they were very kind to me in the church. Morgause has a wild soul and Miss Morgana is quite a Lady. I have the impression she is a good woman and has no grudge against me."

"She's a very Catholic and formal woman," Sophia said deliberately.

"That means she would have preferred her brother married to a young lady on his heels," Merlin observed, hoping his features were more serene than his feelings, which had kept him in a state of great restlessness all day. “I understand how Miss Pendragon must feel. They heard the news very abruptly."

Now he knew and wished furiously not to have judged Arthur so quickly during his interview at the Camelot Club, when the incessant noise of the rain seemed to have altered his nerves, so tense since Gwaine had informed him of what he had been doing in the club, sinking more and more into debt, trying to recover what was lost, until the sum of the fraud reached such dimensions that Gwaine could no longer alter the figures.

Gwaine was so sure Arthur would have him arrested that he asked Merlin to do something, anything that would stop Arthur's relentless fury.

And then his stupid brother had regretted it.

Merlin looked at his right hand, where the gold ring shone. It was as new and as wide as if it were meant to be displayed.

Sophia's voice interrupted his thoughts. "We know that in some countries people marry with the duration of the commitment being not very prolonged."

"Yes."

Merlin looked at the maid and suddenly understood what she meant. Arthur was a walking temptation, as handsome as he was rich, a man very coveted as a husband in order to live well, to have many beautiful clothes, not to mention the costly jewelry.

The supposition caused a flash of anger to illuminate his eyes, which shone like sapphires.

An answer with so many angry words trembled on his lips when the tall doors of the room opened and Arthur appeared tall and imposing in a suit, his shirt glistening and accentuating his tanned complexion.

"I have come to take you to dinner... oh, I see you're dressed and ready."

His eyes examined Merlin from the dark curly hair to the tips of his shoes.

"Splendid." He held out a hand. "You're like an aphrodisiac..."

The flash of anger had animated Merlin. He realized this as he crossed the room to meet Arthur.

The chain of gold flashed, as he descended the stairs beside him. He felt a tremor in his body and legs.

Sophia certainly valued Lady Pendragon and was accustomed to her company, but Merlin said to himself he didn't have to defend his right to be in this house. He didn't want to antagonize Sophia, but he had to let her know that he didn't want her to be his personal maid.

It was true that Merlin had grown up in a home where there were no servants, but that was part of the past and he had to learn to live with this young girl. Arthur had asked for it on behalf of his sister. But, it would only allow her some freedom to express herself.

"Arthur" He said, "I don't need a maid. Why don't you give Sophia a vacation so she can go see her family?"

"That would offend Morgana." He looked at him curiously, pausing at the large cornerstone in the center of the hall, over which hung an enormous lamp that bathed them with its light. "Sophia stayed to serve you and, as I can see from your appearance, she has done very well."

"I dressed myself," Merlin said sourly. "I do not need a maid, and besides..."

He frowned as Merlin paused, biting his lower lip.

"Did Sophia say anything out of place?" Asked Arthur.

"I don't like gossip." Merlin lifted his chin, and anger flashed in his eyes. "Your people think I married you for your money. If only they knew the truth!"

"That is all?" He scoffed. "What a blow to my pride! I had hoped people would think you married me because of my charms."

"Arthur, it's all right for you to take it as a joke, but I don't like being called a gold digger"

"No matter what they think of you, my love, your appearance would make up for any discomfort." Arthur took one of his hands with the right pressure to make him understand that the conversation was over. "Come, when you have dined, you will feel more relaxed and give less importance to what people say about the both of us."

"Sophia told me your sister Morgana was very upset when she found out you were going to marry me..."

"No doubt," He led him into the dining room. "You see, Morgana is angry with me, not with you. In time, she will forget... besides, she was kind to you in the church, wasn't she? My sister is very conservative, but dreamy, therefore, she is fatalistic and accepts what fate brings."

"What happens now, Arthur, is what you caused yourself," He replied. "I am here because you order it, and you know it very well."

"Maybe." He pulled back a high-backed chair from the table that was set for two and invited him to sit down. As he obeyed, Arthur inclined his head and brushed his cheeks with his lips. "You have obscene cheekbones, you know that?"

His warm breath stroked Merlin's skin. The brunet tried to remain calm, fixing his gaze on a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the center of the table.

"Don't you like me flattering you?" Arthur added and sat down in a chair in front of Merlin. The arrangement of flowers did not stop him from looking directly at him.

"I think you think you should do it" Merlin said, his voice low and distant. "I think you have a lot of practice in the art of conquering."

"Ah! Is that what I'm doing, Mer? I thought I was behaving like any man would on his honeymoon."

He felt the blush spreading through his skin, making his cheeks glow, but that didn't reflect inside him.

He couldn't help looking at Arthur. There was no doubt that he possessed that indefinite quality called presence. He mastered the art of the sophisticated world. No one could recognize in him the miserable boy that other boys had mocked and even thrown stones at him. Merlin tried to think of that thin, light-haired boy with sad eyes.

Tonight, it was the man sitting there, looking at him with possessive eyes.

"Tomorrow," He said, "I'll show you Albion. The Venetians left their mark on all these islands; they were crusaders and pirates, merchants and invaders. It can be said that they left more than their footprints for almost three hundred years. In all of us there are traces of forgotten races, if you think about that."

During dinner, Arthur spoke incessantly and Merlin listened with interest. He realized that Arthur was a man who had read a lot, feeding his clever mind with wisdom. He knew the history of the ancient religion and all the corners where fights and battles took place that didn't get to be in books, but influenced history. He knew all about The Cathedral where, at times, he went to hear the evening mass, which Merlin had also done on many occasions.

The wine served at dinner was of a deep red. Its effect made Merlin feel more relaxed. He recognized that Arthur was able to capture his imagination, although he couldn't understand why.

When they finished the dessert, a delicious coffee ice cream served with toasted nuts, they went to take a coffee into the golden and white salon that Merlin couldn't help but admire. The floor was covered with a carpet of delicate flowers, and on the ceiling were crystal-shaped candles and fragile branches. The furniture was made of gilded wood, of a light tone; rich ivory curtains covered the windows through which a very familiar scent penetrated Merlin.

He took a deep breath and felt transported to his old home, where many Nicotians grew under the windows of the room, impregnating it with its scent when the nights were warm and the windows remained open.

"It can't be," He murmured. "Do Nicotians grow here?"

"Now they do" Said Arthur. "I ordered someone to bring some from the garden where you lived with your parents and we planted them here, in these fertile lands, behind those trees near the windows, so that the sun didn't burn the roots. Looks like it was a success, right?"

Merlin looked at him in astonishment.

"It's surprising!"

"Surprising?" He arched an eyebrow. "Do you believe me so hard and with so little imagination?"

"You give that impression."

Merlin sat, almost giving him his back. His nose sniffed at the scent that reminded him of his home, his profile was projected into the winged back of the chair.

"Do I make that impression tonight too?" He asked.

His long legs were stretched out on the rug of thick wool, with a design of flowers of different colors and shapes; it was a masterpiece of subtle oriental art.

Merlin refused to look at him though he could feel Arthur's eyes demanding his attention.

"It's part of your personality... you wouldn't be Arthur Pendragon if you allowed your heart to dominate your head."

"So you are finally admitting that I have a heart."

"Don't we all have one?"

He made an effort to give a cold and dispassionate tone to his voice. He wanted to preserve the appearance of ice that had always kept away his brother's "friends", those crazy young women who went to their parents' house, showing no heart. He preferred riding on his favorite horse and riding alone on the field. No, these young women didn't disturb him... unlike the tall, blond Englishman who had made him his property, in that golden church where the incense was smoking, and the flames of the candles gleamed on the silver icons.

The exotic ritual of his marriage was still attached to his senses; not even the scent of the flowers of Nicosia had been able to dissipate it... those flowers that took root in this island, where he felt lonely, despite the people who worked on the property.

To them, his beautiful pallor was strange and alien... He was an ice that must melt in the arms of that blond with burning skin, what was his master.

Suddenly Merlin noticed that Arthur had crossed the room and was standing behind his chair. He had the silent and almost invisible agility of a feline, probably acquired in his childhood, when he had to run through the mountains and cuddled next to the goats to share their heat, under the stars.

He tensed as Arthur stroked his neck and touched the thin gold chain with his fingers.

"I'm glad you're wearing it tonight." He leaned over Merlin and his breath moved his hair. "It reminds me of your glow, that morning, in the church. Do you feel like a newlywed, my beloved?"

The pulse in his neck beat rapidly under the pressure of Arthur's hands... the possessive pressure of a husband.

"Don't do this..."

Unable to control his panic, Merlin leapt to his feet and away from him, as if he were an animal threatening him. The pupils of his eyes were dilated, full of that threatening shadow that Arthur projected.

"Are you telling me not to come near you?" Arthur spoke in a tone of disappointment and stood there, silent, disillusioned, his gaze fixed on a face as clear as the chain around his neck. "Come on, Merlin, don't you think it's asking a bit too much of a newlywed man?"

"You know how I feel about you."

Merlin didn't want to plead or humiliate himself, so he did the only thing he could and that was to flee, crossing the doors that were open to let in the breeze of the night, bathed in the moonlight and the strong aroma of the flowers of Nicotiana.

He hurried through the stone terrace, taking care not to slip down the steps leading to the garden. He had no chance to escape, but at least he could show that he didn't want to be near Arthur. If he had some pride, then perhaps he wouldn't force Merlin to accept his presence.

Without knowing the garden, he didn't know where he was going and suddenly found himself in a kind of courtyard, where the pale shadows of broken statues could be seen among the trees. It seemed as if he were in a garden populated by ghosts and in other circumstances, perhaps, he would have been fascinated.

He paused for a moment in front of the statue of a man, almost faceless, and that allowed Arthur to catch up with him. Merlin gasped as his hands settled on his shoulders and turned him around to face him. The moonlight illuminated his hair, but made his skin even paler. There he remained, trapped in the blond's hands, expecting him to exercise his conjugal rights in that place, among the cold stone figures.

His fingers tightened, as if he was reading the fear in his eyes.

"Do you hate me so much?" Arthur asked. "I am too proud and have no intention to spend my wedding night in a lonely bed. When a man gets married, his lonely nights are over and here, in the moonlight, your eyes are a book that I can read and your lips a pool of water that I want to drink. Come here, My Love, come into my arms and let us become one. Forget everything else and just be mine."

_Forget_... Merlin couldn't do it, they were men, by all Gods. Besides, how could he ever forget that Arthur had bought him, that Arthur was his owner, that he was part of Arthur's possessions, like this island and Camelot, sheltered between its stone walls in a beautiful and wild countryside?

A sigh rose in his throat, turning into a choked cry when Arthur took him in his arms, to cross the garden and up the stairs. Arthur wasn't a man of stone like these statues, but a human being, sensual, warm and determined.

Merlin felt the need to fight him, but Arthur was too strong. Colin decided that the best defense was to remain passive. Such a passionate man would want a partner who responded to his caresses, not someone who would accept it with indifference.

***

They reached the room and Arthur put him on the floor.

A quick glance showed Merlin that the sheets had been folded, the lamps on the nightstands were gently illuminating the bedroom, and his pajamas and robe, with Arabic embroidery, were set on the bed.

Merlin felt the violent beating of his heart. He noticed that, for the first time since he reached puberty, he wouldn't have privacy in his bedroom again. Arthur had now the right to come and go as he pleased. He could watch him undress if he wanted to. He could enter the bathroom while he was bathing... he was the person with whom Merlin would have the most intimacy: Arthur, his husband.

They stood face to face, looking at each other in silence, totally alone after the emotions of their wedding day.

Merlin didn't realize that his eyes seemed pleading and that in the trembling of his lips silent words were forming, asking the clemency that Arthur wasn't going to grant.

In that moment, the conservative English had vanished and in his place, there was a true Italian stallion, from head to toe, for whom a husband like Merlin was his, flesh and blood.

"I know you feel very shy in front of me." Arthur broke the silence with his deep voice. He pointed to a door that communicated with another room. "I'll leave you a moment, so that you can prepare to go to bed. Don't fall asleep, Merlin, because I will wake you up."

Without moving, Merlin watched as Arthur headed for the arched door, embedded in the wall like all the doors of this house.

When he opened it, Merlin could see a room with white walls, very sober, with a low sofa covered with a black and white blanket and old carpets on the wooden floor. Then the door closed behind him.

Merlin was alone, the blond's words floating in the air, making him gasp in desperation.

He looked around, as if seeking some way to escape him, but this was a house on an island, there was an immense sea, covered by the night embroidered with stars, between Merlin and mainland.

He couldn't do anything, just accept that he was a newlywed on his wedding night.

He felt a great uneasiness running through his body. He was a boy who had protected his feelings, who had never allowed himself to be infatuated or to go crazy, which gave other boys more security in front of their partners, the first time.

Not to forget that if it hadn't been for Arthur he would have never thought of being kissed by a man. Imagining something more terrified him terribly.

To the rhythm of his stormy heartbeat, he prepared to go to bed. The night robe, with Arabian embroidery, had a myriad of buttons on the front.

The pajama consisted of short trousers and a white silk shirt.

Merlin caressed them, deliberately, with trembling fingers, one by one, until he felt trapped in the whole.

Then he went to the mirror and watched... a poor slim boy wrapped in fine clothes, the light from the vanity lamps flashed over his hair, turning his eyes into sapphire pools.

_Whatever happens, happens_, He thought, keeping his body very still and erect.

Arthur returned to the room... a tall figure, wrapped in black clothes, the half-open robe that showed his strong chest, covered with curly blond hair.

As he drew nearer, his eyes met Merlin's face. Unquestionably, he had a feline grace.

Merlin knew that he wasn't perceiving either his fear or his insecurity, or his ignorance to the delights of sensuality.

Under the light of the lamps, Merlin had an almost haunting purity, his skin and hair had flashes of magic around him, and through the eyes of his husband, the look in Merlin's eyes was that of a novice about to face the most hidden mysteries of life.

"You are so beautiful!"

For a moment of surprise, Merlin thought he heard a note of tenderness in his voice... but soon it dissipated as Arthur began unbuttoning his dressing gown with firm and precise hands, beginning from the top. His gaze was fixed on Merlin's, his fingers moving slowly downward until he reached the place where his heart was pounding.

"These clothes suit you a lot" He murmured, "but I want to admire your white skin. I want to touch you, Merlin. I want your soft silk in my arms, to melt in your heat, sweetheart, even if you hate me in the morning, even if you see me as a degenerate, and not as a lover."

When Arthur reached the level of his hips, he pushed Merlin down on the bed, pinning him with one leg, while, quickly, he finished unbuttoning his robe completely.

He lay there, wrapped in the delicate pajama. Suddenly, Arthur bent over him and caught the warm and silky skin of his neck with his lips.

"Are you going to make me take you with force?" Arthur asked excitedly. "Is this how you want to spend our wedding night?"

Merlin looked into his eyes, which were so penetrating in the sun-burned face. He felt his hands sliding over the silky smoothness of his body, beneath the fabric that was his only defense.

With a kind of desperation, he tried not to feel anything. He turned his face to the side, sinking his teeth into his lower lip when he felt Arthur taking off his shirt and then stripping him of his robe, throwing it to one side.

Merlin felt the warmth of Arthur's warm skin over his, his lips caressing the sensitive parts of his nipples. His throat was aching and desperate. He choked out a moan of pleasure that wanted to escape.

Merlin would have never imagined that his own body could betray him this way, making him want the hands and the warm sensual mouth that was caressing him. He felt his body burn.

Arthur's hand brushed the soft curve of his belly and the tip of his finger touched his navel, driving him crazy.

He wanted to hate what Arthur was doing and himself for feeling the sweet and overwhelming need to abandon himself to Arthur's body and will.

Arthur's feline eyes gazed at him with ardor. He hadn't turned off the lamps, so Merlin could see the passion and pleasure on his face, as he caressed him until every fiber of his being burned with the flame of desire.

Merlin believed...hoped that by remaining passive in his arms he might appear indifferent to his possession, but Arthur knew his sensitivity very well and forced him to cross the boundary between control and debauchery.

Arthur held him captive... a prisoner of his eyes and hands for a long sensual moment. Then he laid his warm mouth on his, thus drowning out an involuntary moan that rose in the depths of Merlin's throat, who reacted to the lascivious touch of his husband's expert hands, which enter into his shorts, caressing him tortuously, and then took them away.

"No," Merlin shouted as he tried to break free, but Arthur smiled coyly, pushing him against the mattress, as Colin tried to rise and escape.

Arthur showed him the handkerchief that he was carrying in the pocket of his robe. It was red and almost identical to the one that Merlin wore on the day they met.

Merlin's heart lurched inside him, as he was held in place and his hands placed over her head.

"Fight back" Arthur roared. "Come on. Fight back! Thus it will be more pleasant to submit you....Or lay down and relax, abandon this useless fight and show me how much you like my caresses"

"Please."

Arthur just needed one of his hands to grasp the handkerchief that kept Merlin's wrists tied one on top of the other.

He placed his free hand on his neck and descended with his fingertips, taking a sensual path on the skin of his lover.

Merlin arched, as Arthur's fingers caressed his belly, drawing imaginary forms on his hip, until they moved between his thighs, then up, taking Merlin's breath away in the process.

Arthur continued to explore him with delight and once he felt that Merlin would no longer try to flee, he let his other hand join the exploration.

Then Arthur touched him there, in his most private place, where he had moved like a predator. The palm of his hand boldly cupped his sensitive member and then his fingers began to weave their magic. He knew very well where to caress and rub and how much pressure to exert.

Merlin blushed and clenched his hands, holding the sheets beneath them.

He stifled a moan, completely aroused, given the perfect work that his husband's mouth did when he took Merlin's member in his mouth, stroking it erotically with his teeth.

Arthur smiled as he listened to Merlin cursing through whispers every time his husband touched him with his long and daring tongue, savoring the length of his cock to the tip, as if giving it a new and better form.

When Arthur left his task momentarily, he sought his mouth desperately, and Merlin felt his own taste through his lover's lips.

Then Arthur whispered these words in his ear. "That's it... enjoy it, enjoy it, my love." He bit the lobe of his ear tenaciously.

Excited by the new sensations, Merlin let him do what he wanted.

Arthur untied him and took one of his hands, directing it to his erect cock. His blue eyes flashed at the touch of their skins.

On the other hand, Merlin exalted as he felt his hand touching his husband's hard silky and warm member.

He jumped and tried to release his hand. Arthur gently took it again, and keeping his own hand on Merlin's, following an upward and downward movement, again and again.

Merlin absorbed a thousand emotions, feeling goosebums while Arthur savored every touch of his beloved.

Despite not looking at him, Merlin was aware of his husband's bulging cock. Arthur was huge and not at all small, in any way. Merlin feared a heart attack at such a revelation.

When Arthur felt he couldn't take it any longer, he ordered, "Touch yourself for me,"

Merlin wasn't very aware of what was happening despite being part of that fiery act.

With great willpower, Arthur let go of the grip his husband's had on his member, and took Merlin's hand and set it on his own erection. Merlin was surprised at how excited he was. He could even feel the pain mixed with the pleasure at the touch.

Arthur turned him around gently on the bed, forbidding him to stop touching himself and buried his nose between Merlin's pale buttocks.

Colin was lost in the pleasure he was experiencing and was only frightened when Arthur moved his tongue, stroking his entrance.

He blushed and tried to get away, but Arthur held him by the hips and kept him in the most comfortable position for both.

Arthur enjoyed every moan of his lover, feeling his chest swelling with pride and happiness to see it wasn't entirely unpleasant for his partner.

Merlin had an incredible and final revelation, "_I will never be the same... Arthur has possessed me completely_" he thought, while his husband's tongue slipped into his anus.

The ecstasy that burned in every one of the pores of their bodies seemed to never end, until his husband turned him around again and kissed him with despair. Arthur raised Merlin’s hips and searched his entrance with his fingers, putting one, two and finally three fingers in. Leaving Merlin quite sensitive under his touch.

Then…

Arthur thrusted in ... It hurt a bit and Merlin tried to push him away.

"Be still, don't do that," Arthur sighed and caught him in the warm strength of his hands. It was then that Merlin achieved the complete abandonment he had sought since the beginning of that act of love.

Merlin lay in his arms, feeling his incredible virile strength. The thrusts were increasing in strength and speed as his body adapted to his husband’s size. His tears had been absorbed by Arthur’s affectionate lips while his ears heard words in Italian and English. His body arched, looking for his muscles, and his fingers entangled in his blond hair. There was nothing else in the world except the tumultuous and ardent union of their bodies.

Arthur didn’t fall asleep until dawn, which peeked soft and fresh through the windows. A strong arm and a long leg crossed over the smallest body he was hugging.

Merlin lay still, while listening to Arthur's breath, feeling the small movements he made in his dream. He dared to touch his warm skin. He was curious about that tanned and athletic body that had taken him and, in the end, driven him to the peak of pleasure and excitement. A pleasure greater than the initial pain. His young and flexible body was awakened by him in such a way that a strange and pleasant warmth started in the center of his being, even though he had remained a virgin, in many ways, until that moment.

His mind had been empty of the images of men with women and, only fleetingly, he had thought about how people could achieve that abandonment in the love they shared. It seemed rather an unworthy way of expressing affection and concluded that women submitted, passively, to the wishes of their husbands, who doesn’t take into account neither dignity nor modesty, but a wild greatness... like the stormy sea... like a storm ... like something very primitive and untamed.

Merlin knew Arthur had enjoyed it from the depths of his soul and had turned an innocent young man into someone completely his.

Carefully, Merlin slid his fingers along his chest feeling his heart beat under the sensual blond hair. A shiver of emotion ran through his body, making him feel a strange emptiness in his belly. Arthur was his own master and had been Merlin's master all night. He seemed very distant in his sleep although their warm bodies touched, closed eyelids hid the fire that had been lit and burned in his eyes. Arthur taught him that night that the passions of the body were nothing to be ashamed of. In the end, without shame or inhibition, or the sad memory of the reason for their marriage, he had surrendered to him without reservation.

He smiled softly, before falling asleep with Arthur’s strong arm around him, tying him to him. Now he was Arthur Pendragon’s property and what belonged to him, he kept it, with the tenacity of a man accustomed to use intelligence and muscles to build a better life on the rocks of past poverty.

Merlin, dark brown hair, almost dark, with an almost feminine but reckless mouth and a body devoid of large muscles, belonged to the only man in the world he had tried to avoid.

In that moment, Arthur pulled him closer to himself, as if his dream were something dangerous ... as if, while sleeping, Merlin could run away from him.


	10. Pasado, presente y futuro

Upon arrival she was in charge of greeting each of her employees. From the main chef to the girl with little experience.

“Well, where is that mysterious man that wanted to talk to me so much?”

“Over there” Elena pointed out, his young blonde and distinguished assistant, while she followed her through the kitchen corridor to where the customers were. “I really believe he is someone important ... given he has come for the last few days, despite the fact I told him you were traveling but he kept waiting insistently, asking for you specifically... he also always reserves the center table.”

“Fine, but calm down, or you’ll have a heart attack”

“Don’t joke. I’m telling you, Gwen, he must be a reporter or an important taster? Maybe they give us a very good review. Oh, my God. And he is so hot...” She laughed at her excited assistant, “There he is”

Gwen lost both her laugh and smile and paled, gasping and covering her mouth.

As soon as he saw her, he got up from his seat, placing his hands inside the pockets of his pants.

It took Elena a while to notice that her boss almost fainted when she met that man’s eyes. “Gwen, are you all right? Do you know him? ... Do you want me to ask him to leave?"

"It is not necessary" She smiled, and with a wave of her hand asked her to leave. "We're here for anything." She said watching the man standing a few steps from them.

Percival Jacovich wore casual clothes. Light yellow sports flannel and impeccable white pants. He looked like a golf player.

It was not impossible that he had found her, but yes, surprising what came for you after so many years.

She approached with shaking knees. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a lost and almost inaudible whisper in order not to alarm the customers, who ate placidly in her fine and elegant restaurant. "I thought we were the past."

She was very elegant in a black dress with light rhinestones in the front and with a discreet neckline in the front and back, her tiny little bag of lizard skin and half-heeled red shoes, wearing ruby earrings under her long wavy hair.

"You can't erase or even pretend you never met us." He held her arm abruptly and forced her to sit with him. "Not when he still makes you part of his present."

She put her handbag on the table "It's too late to talk, I imagine that even you must know that"

"It's been six years since you left," He said, with apparent calm. "I imagine it's enough time to forget the mistake we all made."

"Don’t blame me." Both were sitting facing each other, their eyes fixed with ardor of resentment "Don't do it, you're not the type to do it."

"Just presenting them. It wasn't my intention to put you in his bed."

The glass of water was trapped by his hand before she could successfully throw its contents into his face. "I fell in love." She excused herself.

"As with Arthur? And then you will tell me that it was the idea and not the person. How many years ago was that?"

"You let me go that time, why look for me now? I loved them both, but I was too young and I didn't know what I wanted. But now it's different and I have the right to do whatever I want with my life. I don't consider you my tutor anymore. The time for you to tell me what to do is over"

"Yes, it’s true" he stammered, and suddenly he sat up in his seat, his bright eyes fixed on his hands. He rubbed his hands in discomfort at the slight glances of the nosy clients. He stared at her and she clenched her hands hiding her fingers. She was tense and vulnerable given the strong impact to have the man who took care of her, after the death of her parents and brother, in front of her caused her.

He was the closest thing to an uncle or older brother in her heart. She would have loved to be able to hug him and tell him how much she had longed to meet him again; to tell him all her achievements, be able to tell him how happy she was now with her fiancé. Of course, always forgetting both Lancelot and Arthur in the process. Everything that had happened hurt her so much. The sad thing was that she knew that her heart would not forget that because of this same man she had lost everything. Percival surely couldn’t imagine the grudge in her heart given their relationship before she made those bad decisions.

She hated herself so much for feeling this resentment for someone like him, someone she had considered her only family for a long time.

There was not a big difference in age between them, but in position, experience and wisdom.

She noticed his attentive gaze and the silence hovering between them. He was looking at her hands and she removed them from the table, placing them on her skirt. It was too late. He had already noticed the golden ring.

He didn't know why, but that gesture left him suddenly very disappointed. "Okay, one question and then I'll let you live your new fairy tale"

"What?"

"Why?"

"Why what?!"

"Tell me why you ran away. Yes, Arthur had already heard about your betrayal. Yes, he and you went out together, lay together, made plans for the future together! When did you decide to leave that way?”

"Why do you want to know? In any case, it doesn’t matters anymore" She continued to shrug "Six years later you got what you wanted. You are still his right hand, and running his business."

"Do you think that is what I was seeking? You think I took you under my protection to get to him?" He laughed bitterly. "I didn't need something so low for that. If I took care of you, it was because I admired your father and his friendship with mine. Besides, Elyan was one of my best friends... his death hurt me too. He was like a brother to me and that is why I kept you safe, to honor his memory. As for Lancelot; if I take care of his affairs, it is because I have always tried to take care of him as I tried to do with you"

"Of course, you have always done what you were interested in and taking care of us the helpless poor made you feel like a saint. You should have your own chapel."

She flinched when he punched the table, "I’d never do something as low as what you are thinking in that dirty little head of yours. Handling Lancelot's inheritance and yours? That's what you think I wanted from you? Handle it so I could manipulate him like a puppet?? I have been his friend for a long time, even before your father met mine! I didn’t manipulate you, like they did"

“We are the same as our parents. You said it; "We cannot erase the past" You know, trusting someone other than yourself is men’s greatest mistake”

"Yes, and your brother died because of the imprudence of following in his footsteps." Gwen squeezed her eyelids, holding back tears. "I wanted a different life for us. I was even glad that you got engaged to Arthur, despite knowing what kind of man he was. I knew you could be happy with him, but ...you fooled around with Lancelot. You swore to me that you loved him and after facing both of them, you simply left. And if you want to talk about that inheritance you should know that your father left you only debts. I helped you by making the right investments. Thanks to that...thanks to this thief ...you are where you are and not asking for money in the streets"

"Do you want me to thank you, then?"

"Just talk to Lancelot and explain why you disappeared like that."

"Oh, please! Here you go again. Let's make one thing clear: I didn’t disappear six years ago, I just left. I was nineteen years old and, if I am not mistaken, in this country at that age you are considered an adult capable of making your own decisions. Besides, I left you a note"

“_Don't bother looking for me, because you won't find me_” Percival quoted with indignation. “You think it's nice to leave a note like that. I worried about you. Lancelot too and your game destroyed him. He was not the same after that; his eyes dead. He betrayed his cousin, his own blood, for you.”

"It was more than they deserved." Gwen smiled sadly. "He hasn't told you yet, isn't it? At that time, Percy, I didn’t know if I was capable of telling you I was leaving" Gwen took a napkin and began to squeeze it between her fingers, unable to hold her serene face. "I ... I really hated you.” He clenched his teeth at her statement. "I hated you so much." Tears slipped from his eyes sliding from his cheeks to his chin. "I said so many bad things to you, I wanted to yell at you and tell you so much. I... I wanted to kill you" Gwen sighed feeling that at last she was taking out something that had been consuming her for a long time and stared at the corner, where a picture with the signature of Elyan was, in honor of her late brother, who was an amateur painter.

"Stop. You don't know what you are saying"

"No. I really wanted to take a gun and do what runs through the veins of our families. Killing and hurting is part of our essence after all. But I opened my eyes before doing that. I didn’t have enough courage to live with it. I could only take my suitcases and leave. I left and saved us both. I felt so denigrated and worthless"

"You're being irrational. Why would you want to hurt me? I loved you... No, I love you like a sister. I even tried to be a good older brother to you. Why hate me? You're lying."

"Because everything that happened is your fault"

"Just for introducing you to Lancelot when you were Arthur's fiancée"

Gwen denied it and then tilted her head. "Not just because of it...there’s more. Love must be reciprocated, and it always is but many times in the wrong way. It was more than obvious his admiration for you. God! In fact everything makes sense, you always have been by his side ... how can someone not fall in love with you? You, who always put everyone's needs before your own"

"Gwenevere, I haven't come to hear your delusions."

"Percival, you practically taught him to walk among the crows and move between the poisonous snakes."

"It seems that there is no time."

"I deserve it."

"I just want you to talk to him and amend your mistake and make him right. Now that Arthur is married, all his father's business is in his possession. Lancelot wants to break the deal between families and you know what that would mean: blood and more blood. I need you to talk to him. You are the only one he will listen to"

"Arthur married ... no" The anguish on her face was easily to see.

"He went on with his life, just like you."

"Tell Lancelot to do the same. I have things to do."

"By ignoring him, you're making another stupid mistake."

"The real mistake I made was to put that person as a priority in my life, and worse, knowing that he was only an option. Arthur loved me, but I betrayed him without thinking about his feelings. Lancelot thought he loved me and I wanted to believe it. But, I was the illusion trapped in his heart; where he hid his true and lowest desires. He has always been in love with you."

He took his wallet and threw some dollars on the table. She stood up. "It was stupid..." Percival got up adjusting his jacket and turned to leave. “…and a waste of time to come here”

She held his arm so as not to let him go. "Don't try to paint me as crazy" He let go and she stood straight with her eyes fixed on his back. “You know it’s true”

“You lie.” He walked away, feeling the door was too far.

"He was here three years ago and confessed" He stopped his steps again while the people in that restaurant pretended not to be interested in that discussion. "I thought he would have enough balls to admit his feelings. But I see he still dares not to look at you in the eye and tell you."

Percival's heart swayed inside his chest. "I need to get out of here."

"You're as blind as he is. If you don't believe me, ask him. Besides, if he loved me so much, why would he let me go?"

"The wine is ok ..." In a hard and severe voice, "but the service is bad."

"Wait!"

He didn’t. He had a feeling he had to follow his steps to the door.

***

Percival entered the small living room of his apartment and found two women sitting on the couch in front of him.

The youngest of the two was Michelle Robinson, his last stepmother (excellent substitute mother) and the other, the one with teary eyes, was nothing more and nothing less than Lady Marilyn Fertford; the wife of the minister of economy and Lancelot’s mother.

Both women seemed to be in shock, but he was not mentally prepared to have a decent talk with such prestigious ladies. He cleared his throat, waiting for an explanation for their visit.

Marilyn jumped off the couch and hug him. “How much this child has grown, my God, how much he has grown! If not for you, my son would still be a careless and capricious young man...a great miracle...” Marilyn smiled with a gleam of sadness in her eyes.

“Marilyn?” He turned his raised eyebrow towards his stepmother, “Michelle, what's going on here? Something happened?”

Marilyn was not a woman to make visits... she preferred to enjoy the comforts of her mansion or take a long trip with her friends, away from paparazzi. After the death of her husband, she preferred to stay away from lovers and magazines. If there was something Percival knew, it was that Marilyn could only cry for one reason: her son.

Michelle could not answer because Marilyn started to explain her problem.

“I'm looking for Lancelot. Have you seen him? Have you spoken with him?”

“Last time, it was when we returned from Argentina a few days ago. I had to travel again. I just got back, but I couldn't reach him on the phone.”

“I'm worried, Percy."

“She fears that Lancelot went to Albion.”

“Michelle, I, I don't think Lance...” Marilyn took him by the arm interrupting his attempt to excuse his friend for his absence.

“Today I went to his office to invite him for lunch... but I couldn’t find him. His secretary told me he went on a trip but didn’t ask her to book any flight. I called the harbor. Lancelot took the "albatross", sailed towards Demon blue but since I woke up this morning, my heart hurts and I have a bad feeling.”

***

Merlin woke up a long time later, finding Sofia by his bedside. She had a tray of food in her hands and looked at Merlin carefully; their eyes met the moment the maiden stretched.

Averting the scrambled bangs from his forehead, Merlin sat up, blushing as he discovered the girl's gaze on him.

He knew that there was an ancient tradition in all marriages and hoped, fervently, that this was not the case, for obvious reasons. Although there was a good chance Morgana had secretly asked Sofia to make sure her brother's husband was a virgin.

Just the idea made him laugh alone and made Sofia suspect his loss of sanity. All thanks to this family.

"The young master slept well," Sofia murmured, more like an affirmation than a question.

"Yes." Merlin looked at the clock on the nightstand and couldn't suppress a gasp when he saw the time. It was three in the afternoon. The burning sun was already dimmed by the window blinds, a large ceiling fan turned on, cooling the atmosphere. “God, is it possible that so many hours have passed?”

"Don't doubt it." Sofia didn't smile as she spoke, "I brought food for the 'young master" since breakfast has long passed. Would you like to eat in bed, young master?"

"No, I want to take a bath." Merlin removed the blankets, forgetting that he had not worn his pajamas, for several hours. A soft blush covered his face as he felt the questioning look of the maiden's eyes.

He quickly wrapped himself in the sheets, ashamed. He quickly passed Sofia and entered the bathroom, telling her he would eat on the balcony.

When he was in the shower, he remembered every moment of the previous night. With a sensuality he never thought he was capable of, he rinsed the scented foam that covered his body, remembering how Arthur had caressed each curve with his lips, each cavity and every part of his body.

He felt a strange tingling in his lower abdomen and his eyelids narrowed at the weight of these sensual thoughts. He could not deny the pleasure he felt in those strong and possessive arms. Arthur was a savage and had taken him on an erotic journey of incredible emotions. And it would happen again, he thought, as he ran the towel over his skin. Again and again, he would lie in his arms and they would love each other with passion.

And Merlin would want his passion...he would rejoice on his lips, that spoke hot words, in all those languages that he now knew, his husband knew. While looking into his eyes with dilated pupils in the wall mirror, Merlin wondered if Arthur had made his way into his heart.

It was something he couldn't know...something he hardly dared to think about, even for a little while, when he saw him again. Love was a very big mystery, a strange and overwhelming emotion. Merlin had read that passion could sometimes be confused with love, that the body could dominate the mind.

In the church, he had felt like a stranger at the altar, surrounded by the guests. At the reception, despair affected him so much, physically and mentally, that he had fallen into the water from the balcony.

Slowly, he placed his body in front of the mirror and saw again the bruise on his shoulder that Arthur thought he had given him in the water, when he launched himself to save him.

It seemed the only possibility, and yet Merlin had never thought Arthur was a monster, just a powerful force that threatened his freedom and independence. He wouldn't get to the point of killing himself to escape Arthur. That kind of nonsense was not part of his nature, but the fight in the lake had occurred. Merlin was sinking in the water, trying to reach the surface, feeling very scared.

His husband told him to forget and last night, conclusively, he managed to bury that sad event in his mind.

Merlin realized, with a shudder caused by surprise, that he had simply done it... happily. He still felt the warmth of his body, his skin was on fire and his hair shone, while, deep in his eyes, there was a spark of joy. He felt as if there had never been a yesterday, as if nothing had existed until last night.

Tying his robe belt, he returned to the room, where the blinds were open leaving the exit to the balcony free. He sat at the table protected by a large striped umbrella, waiting for his food.

He went to the iron rail of the balcony, which was hot by the sun. He had never felt a sun so warm and the sea shone like sapphires. This was Albion, far from everything that had been his life until then, when he didn't know he was missing something essential, fascinating and incredible.

That day Merlin was aware of everything, as full of life more than ever. He felt delighted with this feeling; every sip of coffee seemed more delicious, as well as his meal.

He tried to decide which of the fruits he would eat first: the violet-colored grapes and juicy peaches, or an apple.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, when he realized that behind the basket with large red apples was a small box with a blue bow. When he lifted it, the four sides that formed it opened and, in the center, was an object wrapped in foil that he hastened to unwrap.

Merlin held his breath when he discovered a heart-shaped ruby inside a glass globe.

He recalled that a few years ago, he had coveted one of those to shake; they showed the gentle snowfall of a white and exquisite Christmas. But he only managed to get one for a few seconds. Upon leaving the store, someone collided with him and turned his precious object into fragments scattered on the asphalt floor. He hadn't even had the pleasant moment of waving the little ball. He had no money for another and growing up with a troubled brother it was difficult to continue his old admiration for them.

Excited, he held it gently with his fingers, watching it glow in the sun with a blood-red glow. Instead of the white snow, what fell on that heart were small white leaves that seemed to meet the shape of petals.

"I hope you like it," A voice murmured.

He turned immediately to see Arthur standing at the balcony door, with his skin the color of teak, wrapped in white cotton pants and a t-shirt.

"It's wonderful." The breath seemed to clog his throat as he approached. He was the same man, and Merlin looked exactly the same as before but, after last night, everything had changed. And you could see it in Arthur's smiling and satisfied eyes.

"You slept like a baby" Arthur leaned toward his husband and with an involuntary movement, Merlin raised his lips to meet Arthur's, and as Arthur kissed him he lifted Merlin up, squeezing him tightly against his chest. "Are you okay?" Arthur murmured as his hand caressed the dark hair and his eyes ran over the face of his beloved.

He knew what he meant and that made him blushed. The smile in Arthur's eyes became brighter as he contemplated that beautiful face, and he touched the silky and rosy skin of his cheeks with his fingertips.

"So, did you like it?"

Merlin nodded.

"I am sorry for the accident a few years ago ... I just wanted to approach you. But, your clumsiness ruined the moment."

"My clumsiness?!" He lightly punched Arthur's shoulder because of the insult. "Wait a moment, so, it was you... you were that guy."

"I just wanted to...," He kissed the tip of his nose and then returned to his eyes. “…to wish you Merry Christmas, at least as you passed…" With the tip of his finger he touched his wedding ring, he touched the same place he had kissed minutes before, causing Merlin to wrinkle his delicate little nose with a smile. "I couldn't imagine that you would be so dazzled by that object to completely ignore me" Arthur pretended a pitiful pout, "You practically passed next to me and ignored me" He said looking away from Merlin pretending to be offended, causing him to take his face in his hands to turn his husband's attention back to him. "I felt invisible."

"Poor you" Merlin kissed him on the lips.

"It's not the same ball. I had it made for you. I wanted it to be special."

"You are a man full of surprises, Arthur."

"I think it's the blood of my heart," he murmured and, taking the ball, he placed it on the table, between them. He hold Merlin's hands in his. The ruby into the globe shone highlighting its beautiful color. "I always considered you a magical and beautiful being," Arthur said in a more serious voice than before, "But now, my God, you have a warmth that excites me and attracts me. I think our wedding night was very nice for both of us, don't you agree?”

Merlin released one of his hands and stroked the glass surrounding the ruby and looked into his eyes shyly, fully aware that no man would ever know him as Arthur did. On one occasion, he had asked Gaius if human beings could have met in previous lives. Now, at this moment, Merlin felt as if he and Arthur had been like this, together under the sun in very remote times. He sensed his presence as if his skin cells were his own ... as if his heart was beating at the same speed as his.

"You had fears and resentments yesterday," Arthur said. “Have they disappeared completely?”

"Almost," Merlin replied without lying. “I will always regret that Gwaine has stolen money from you, I can't help it.”

"You are young, proud and romantic," Arthur gestured, extending his hands significantly, "It's understandable. Now, tell me about your loves.”

"I have always been … afraid."

“Afraid, Merlin?”

"Afraid that you’re thinking" His fingers squeezed the glass globe, "I'm paying you, when we're making love"

Arthur swore. He pulled him tightly, lifting him in his arms and thus headed for the bedroom. He took him to the bed where sad memories had been eclipsed; they felt again the need to find pleasure and forget the pain.

Burning emotions burned them again, joining their lips. Arthur slowly deposited him on the bed, which he had changed with clean sheets.

"Ah! The sweet fire of these eyes." Arthur took his face in his hands and looked for his eyes for a moment.

Merlin looked at him with a dreamy expression, his parted lips waited for his kisses even when he murmured, "We mustn't ... not at this time of the day!"

"This is nap time, _amore mio_ [my love]" Arthur laughed softly. "Only a fool would waste this time that is a gift from God. And we are not fools"

"Why do you say that, Arthur?" He lay submissive, motionless as he untied the belt of his robe and pulled away the fabric that covered his body, slowly, as if he were anticipating the climax of pleasure.

"We, my love, have been waiting a long time to be together."

"Oh!" His eyes looked regretful as he watched him take off his shirt, revealing his tanned face and the thin skin belt of his pants. "You won't easily forgive me for rejecting you, am I right, Arthur?”

He shook his head, denying. His figure seemed carved in dark wood, strong and powerful and had a determined temperament that confirmed this impression.

"You made us waste precious time, _mio caro _[my dear], until that useless brother of yours forced you to turn to me." He leaned toward him and slipped his hand from his throat to his hips. "I will not forgive you all the naps we could have spent together, as we are going to do now."

"What do we do when the maid returns?" Although the words wanted to deny his own excitement, his body was reacting to the sensual caresses. His power was dominating him and Merlin could not resist him.

As if it were a precious and expensive object, Arthur worshipped him, enjoying what he saw, while his hands felt his skin. He put his mouth over the smooth curves of his mouth, admiring the brightness of his teeth, the thick eyelashes that gave a sensual mystery to his eyes, the intense flashes of light sliding down his hair, the deep shadows cast on his skin at the places where his forms became more provocative.

Merlin lay under the arch of his chest and shoulders; his face had a captivating appeal, it seemed that, with Arthur, it was always the first time they made love.

"You have an inciting mouth." He moved his lips sensually over his. "You have the body of a young man, but you are an angel. You are mine and no matter what happens, Merlin, you always will be mine...even if you hate me."

"Hate you?" His arms closed around his neck. Merlin could feel the heat and expectant emotion of his manly body attached to his. "I could never hate you, Arthur."

"That's what you say now, my beloved, but everything is possible when it comes to the two of us," Saying this, Arthur possessed him and time stopped in the universe.

They were alone, together and Merlin felt as if he had the force of life in his arms.

The ecstasy was greater than before, because his body no longer ignored the wonderful sensations he could feel.

And Arthur had such a passionate desire and knew how to turn him on, from one sensation to another. That pleasure seemed to break into a waterfall that bathed the hidden and deepest parts of his being.

The sun was setting when his joy culminated and the red and gold rays entered through the balcony. Arthur looked like a bronze figure next to his whiteness, his face resting on his dark, messy hair.

"You smell so delicious... so exquisite," He murmured. "Your essence is full of surprises, _amore mio_ [my love]"

"Why are you surprised, Arthur?" He rested on the warm hair of his chest and intertwined his legs with his. He felt a sensual relaxation that seemed exquisite and felt a primitive joy at discovering his own body. Being like this, along with the warmth of his lover was the deepest experience Merlin could ever know.

"You are as passionate as any lover," He replied.

"Is that a compliment, Arthur, or a confession?" He said provocatively, but at the same time, he was curious about his old lovers. "Have you had many lovers in your life?"

"I wasn't always married," He teased, "and my mother did not bring to the world a son who felt incline to celibacy."

"So…"

"There were women that I liked and admired, until I saw you, and I was afraid I was losing my mind. I tried to ignore my feelings but I could only think of the boy at the fruit market. My beautiful angel. I felt I could lose my freedom."

"It's strange," Merlin murmured, "but I was disgusted to think to be tied to someone. When I rode through the countryside, surrounded by bronze and purple colors, seeing a spark in the streams, like shining armor, I never wanted to belong to something or someone who could steal my free spirit. I would even prefer to ride forever so that my horse could feel as free as me. When I knew I had to marry you I was terrified."

"As I told you, _amore bello_ [my beautiful love], you made me believe that I could never fully possess you." He sat up and studied his face in the reddish light that flooded the room. "Do you realize that you have given yourself to me completely?"

Merlin smiled, looking into his eyes and held out a hand toward him, pressing his against his rough cheek.

"Being here with you is like riding free in the countryside; there is something in you of that indomitable quality, Arthur, something of the mystery of its rocks, that captivates that spirit. Tell me, Arthur, when can I return to Ealdor?"

A silence followed his words; then Arthur turned away from him, standing up, his tall figure cut against the sunset light. A strange pain invaded Merlin's heart.

"What's wrong, Arthur?" He sat down and tried to read his expression, his eyes wide, but the handsome face was covered by the shadows that crawled across the room, dissipating the warm fire of the sun, now sinking into the sea.

"Arthur?"

"We are here, in Albion, to enjoy our honeymoon," he replied somberly. "Can't you forget Ealdor for at least a moment?"

"Yes, if you don't ask me to forget it completely," Merlin knelt on the bed with an almost pleading attitude. "Don't ask me to remove my homeland from my heart. I was hoping we could live there."

"We'll see." He turned around as he said this, picked up his clothes and entered the next room.

As the door closed, Merlin put his robe on and went barefoot towards the balcony whose iron rail and quarry cooled as the sun's heat disappeared.

He leaned against the rail and heard the distant cooing of the sea. Stars covered the purple sky, and the air was scented with the smell of the pines that proliferated on the island.

If Arthur wanted it, he would agree to live some time in his beloved Albion. His father lived here and it was understandable that he wanted to be by his side.

What Merlin could not bear was to never return to the land of his parents, whose elegant and ancient image always accompanied him.

Not only did he love his stones, honey color, but every corner and crack were engraved in his memory. His bedroom, the walls covered with a wallpaper with drawings of birds, branches and leaves delicately painted. There was a huge bed with a canopy supported by carved wooden poles, the fabric of which matched the wall tapestry, and the headboard was lined with light blue silk, the same tone as the bedspread. Two beautiful Persian rugs, old, covered the light wooden floor; there was a bedside table, where he kept his books and a showcase where the silk and lace fans his mother collected were open. The gallery was full of carved sculptures, representing wheat fields, pigeons and flower petals, all with beautiful details. The ornaments of the doors were also delicate wood carvings and the magic-colored dome of the greenhouse led to the small living room. In front of the house, there was a large area of grass and torrents of light coming through the windows, embedded in the walls, reflecting a multitude of images and colors on the floor.

How well he remembered the beautiful floor, the oak wood benches in the hall and the tapestry of the armchairs! The warmth given by the great black marble fireplaces, where they burned the big logs that creaked in the fire!

How much he loved that extravagant and romantic silhouette that formed the sunset! His favorite room was that of the peacock, named for the painting of a lustrous peacock on the ceiling, with its beautiful blue feathers.

Merlin loved Ealdor, and Arthur loved Albion. His instinct warned him that the harmony of their bodies would not find an echo in the desires of their hearts. Nothing would change the fact that he was basically a capricious Greek and Arthur struggled with his two origins, and that they both had a temper as intense as their passions.

Merlin had not realized the magnitude of his own passions, until he married Arthur and although the thought of being in his arms made his legs weaken, he was determined to fight him if he denied him the pleasure to live, from time to time, in the house of his parents.

Being so proud, it was natural that he was a dominant part of the marriage and Merlin had no intention of being anything other than his partner. But it was inevitable to feel the attraction of the old stone mansion in Ealdor, where many generations of Morgans had spent their lives and, now that he had married Arthur, his memories had resurfaced and he wanted to see his old home again.

A cool breeze rose from the sea and fiddled with his hair, while remaining on the balcony, lost in thought. First, he would try to convince him through flattery, but if he remained adamant in his decision to visit his lands from time to time, Merlin would also show him his temper. He had compared it to a man who, surely, had the same temperament of a boy and if that didn't work out, then he would break into tears.

Merlin smiled ... there was actually some fun and dramatic in the marriage; it didn't matter that Arthur played the role of a strong and demanding man, given that these types of men were always at the mercy of the delicate fragility of their partner.

It was something that someone like Arthur couldn't help taking into account when he caught such a sensitive character as Merlin was in his arms.

He was aware of his delicacy and the ease with which he could bruise his soft skin, and the sensitivity of his emotions.

He laughed and returned to the room, where he made the bed again, carefully, and shook the pillows. Soon Sofia would come to prepare his bath. There was something about that woman that caused a strange sensation.

She didn't like Colin, and Merlin didn't like Sofia finding out about his intimate things with Arthur. It was like having a spy in his room, because Merlin was convinced that Sofia watched every move, to inform Lady Pendragon of how the honeymoon was going.

Morgana must have a very boring life.

Merlin looked at the bed, better arranged than before, and it was said that one thing was certain, Sofia could not inform Arthur's sister that his husband rejected him. It was quite evident that her brother was receiving an intense and passionate emotional response from his husband, which perhaps worried her.

Morgana knew her brother better than anyone, and wanted for him a partner who would gladly accept all the power of Arthur's passion, the need to mitigate the old wounds and the rejections suffered in his childhood.

Merlin arranged the bedspread so that he was perfectly focused and, holding his breath, remembered the delirium of happiness he had felt in his husband's powerful arms, transported by them to the throbbing heights of pleasure, almost freaked out by their caresses, by the sensual kisses that made him moan and press against his muscular body.

Lost in those memories he lay on the newly arranged bed and wrapped his arms around his body, still burning in pleasure. The heart beat in a hurry and everything seemed to turn to think of the intimate secrets he had shared with Arthur. His fingertips still shuddered from being in contact with him and he could feel his erect nipples under his shirt.

Oh God! He felt himself floating in the air with the desire that brought tears to his eyes. Arthur possessed him even when he was away from him. The somber image of that man filled his mind, just as his kisses and caresses floated on his skin. Suddenly, he was crying for the intense joy that that hard and strong body had left inside him.

"Are you sad?"

Merlin looked at Sofia's penetrating eyes in surprise, while some tears still rolled down his cheeks.

"Oh no!"

"The young master is crying, so he must feel sad."

"No way, I don't feel sad." Merlin stood up, noting that Sofia's eyes roamed the bed.

"The young master shouldn't have bothered to make the bed." Sofia's gaze was dark and alert. "It is my job"

"Your job is not to take so many liberties." Suddenly, the suspicion he felt for that woman made Merlin lose control. "Please prepare a bath for me, use pine scent. And tell me, did Lady Pendragon commission you to constantly monitor me to inform her of all my movements?"

But Sofia was cunning and immediately pretended innocence.

"I don't understand anything when the young master speaks so quickly in English."

"You understand me very well. Please prepare the bath."

"Yes, master"

Sofia went to the bathroom and Merlin went to the closet to choose the set he would use that night for dinner with Arthur. That hateful spy was not going to make the choice, or his rage would be uncontrollable! The chalice was made of spring cloth, with tight sleeves. He chose white shoes ... Similar to those he wore the night before, when he fled Arthur through the garden of stone figures.

So little time had passed and yet it seemed like a distant memory. _Had I really felt so afraid of him?_ He smiled, while arranging his outfit for after the bath; then he waited for Sofia to leave the bathroom and, casually, asked for a cup of tea.

"Tell the cook not to put a large tea spoon to prepare the jar," he said haughtily, "two teaspoons are enough and the jar must be half full with boiling water, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Sofia left the room politely, but Merlin noticed her resentment. She liked to snoop around the secrets of her lords and surely did not like Merlin to thwart her attempts. If, as Merlin suspected, she was spying for Lady Pendragon, then it would be better to tell Arthur. He, less than Merlin, would like for someone to tell his sisters unpleasant things about his husband.

Merlin entered the pine-scented bathroom that left his skin rosy and fresh. He returned to the room, covered with a dressing gown, in time to discover that Sofia was putting his shirt back in the closet.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

Sofia turned to look at him. Her eyes were challenging.

"The young master has very beautiful clothes, haute couture, that the master bought him to wear to please him. Women only live to please their husband."

Merlin tried to ignore the insult. It was clear that he was not a woman and would not fall for this provocation. "Nonsense!" Merlin approached the maid and held out a hand to retrieve his shirt. "I am still not used to Albion's weather and I want to be cool, so please give me back that shirt, or I'll call your so precious master and ask him to fire you right now."

"Master won't fire me because I'm at Lady Morgana's service." Sofia blinked, looking at Merlin dressed in the negligent gown he had slipped over his waist and his messy wet hair. "The Greeks don't understand the loyalty between siblings"

"I understand perfectly the union between my husband and his sisters," Merlin replied, feeling that his nerves were tense, "but don't believe, for a moment, that he would put your lady's wishes before mine."

"Only for that?" Sofia indicated the bed with disdain gesture. "Do you think you are the first in the life of the master?"

"I'm the first husband in his life." Merlin reached out to take the shirt and at that moment, Sofia pulled it roughly to tear it off Merlin's fingers, but the cloth tore, separating into two parts.

For a moment Sofia looked scared and then, defiantly, threw the damaged shirt at Merlin.

"You did it, young man. You can't blame me."

Merlin stood holding his shirt, while Sofia hurried out of the room. A moment later, Arthur entered through the ajar door.

"Have you argued with the maid?" He asked, "She passed by me crying and muttering something about a broken shirt and that you blamed her. Ah, is that the shirt she was talking about?"

He crossed the bedroom with big steps and looked at Merlin inquisitively. Merlin was furious to see that Sofia had forced him to lose control. He found Arthur's eyes questioning and a little funny and decided that he would not spoil that mood.

"Looks like I can't please your sister's maid," He forced himself to say naturally. "I wanted to wear one of those shirts and we discussed a little. I am realizing that women are very stubborn."

"I think my sister lets Sofia do what she wants" Arthur took the broken shirt and examined it. "Too bad! It's a nice shirt. However, you have others and I think we can find someone on the island that can fix this one.”

Merlin realized that the situation seemed something very frivolous to Arthur and, once again, decided that it was not the time to inform him of his suspicions, saying that Sofia was deliberately spying on him and making him feel like a nosy foreigner.

As he headed to choose another shirt, Arthur sat in one of the armchairs. It was obvious that he was going to be his audience while dressing. A smile trembled on his lips as he pulled out a smoke-colored one with a high neck and straight, smooth lines. He was naked under his robe and wondered how hungry Arthur would be, if he intended to watch him through those long, clear eyelashes, while putting on his underwear.

Dark and distinguished, dressed in a suit and a white shirt, Arthur watched absorbed and silently as Merlin slipped out of the robe. A flurry of light settled in the eyes of his blond lover. Detailing each line of that body that belonged to him, only to him, starting from the curvature of his neck, his shoulders, each curve of his body. His lovely husband, controlling his shyness, put his legs in the pants and then in the skinny jeans.

"Are you enjoying this show where only one acts?" He murmured, as he headed to the mirror to accommodate his hair and comb it. He could see it in the mirror Arthur’s mouth closed in a soft smile.

"It's my privilege," Arthur said with some arrogance. "You are mine, from head to toe, aren't you?"

"What a possessive man you are, Arthur!" He sprayed his skin with a little cologne.

Arthur was still watching him with that alert and relaxed expression while he put his shoes on. When he tried to reach his shirt, he stood up and with agile and fast movements took the garment and, standing behind Merlin, helped him to put both arms inside the garment leaving forgotten the task of fastening it, deciding to hold the hips of the other in his hands, while his lips searched his neck. Merlin was disarmed, as always, to feel the contact of his hands.

"I've made you mine completely," He said. Merlin felt his breath brushing the scented skin. "If you walked away thousands of kilometers from me ... if you went to the other side of the world, you would still belong to me."

"Why should I want to leave you?" Merlin felt his body shiver in response to the caresses of his lips. "I am happy here."

"Be careful with certain words, Merlin. Pendragons don't challenge fate, proclaiming our joy out loud. I, personally, live according to the teachings of Apollo, that man must live as if he only had one more day to enjoy the sunlight."

"Fatalists," He said provocatively. "You are so civilized in certain things, Arthur, and so primitive in others."

"You wake up what's primitive in me and you enjoy doing it, don't you?"

"Yes," replied his heart. He was ecstatic, incredibly, when Arthur caressed him, although he knew it would be very dangerous to unleash his fury. "Right now, I have a fierce hunger," Merlin said, "so I will delay my delight until we have eaten."

He laughed, in a deep voice, kissed his neck and removed his hands from his body.

"Do you want me to be your servant and accommodate your poor appearance?"

Merlin nodded and experienced the tenderness in him as he buttoned each button, a delicate layer of cloth that accentuated the color of his eyes. At the height of his throat, where his neck was bent to perfection, his gold chain shone.

"Those beautiful eyes," he took his face in his hands, "like moon water."

"My husband, the primitive poet," he smiled. "I wonder if you're really Apollo."

He shook his head, his eyes dwarfed, little by little, until he looked fierce and dangerous.

"The Apollo of the sun was Greek, and I have only one Greek husband who burns my veins. There are warrior and master shadows in my feelings for you and you know it, don't you, Merlin?"

"Yes." His heart beat fast, as he does when he reaches the cusp of happiness or fear. "I knew it the moment we met and, in the end, I'm here, with you, Arthur. You got away with it and I'm married to you."

"Pendragons have always been brave," he smiled and they walked away, holding hands, toward the dining room, not before placing a soft kiss on the warm lips of his beloved Merlin.


	11. Cena de desiluciones

They dined at _Delizia dell'amore_, decorated in white and gold, and the food was Italian. The first dish was delicious rolls with beef, pasta and a very soft sauce. The wine was the purest and strongest, and gave more flavor to the food.

"Do you like it?” Arthur watched Colin while he was eating. The flames of the candles were reflected in his eyes, when he looked at him from the opposite side of the round table, placed at the corner of the room. The windows were open to let in fresh air, full of aromas.

"Yes ... I'm so hungry! It must be the island's air."

"The air among other things." His eyes had a provocative glow. He raised the glass and tasted the wine. "Did you know that the island of Albion is surrounded by a circle of rocks sunk under the sea, which create a silver ring when you watch it from the air?"

"Is that why you like this island, Arthur, because, in a way, it symbolizes your own personality?"

"Do you think I have rocks deep in my soul, Merlin?"

"I know you do" He nodded bluntly. "I will never make the mistake of thinking it's safe to sail near you, Arthur. You would be a less fascinating man if you didn't have a deep rocky soul. You came out of the rocks that forged your life, to become a tough man, didn't you?"

"And you admire me for that, my beautiful little bird"

"I have to admit that I admire your strength, the courage and discipline that accompany your achievements." He smiled at him, looking at him in the eye over the edge of his wineglass. "You are also rude, of course, but I can forgive you that."

"How nice you are, my dear! But what if I have to be rude to you?"

"What do you mean, Arthur?" He felt his heart beat faster and saw the silhouette of Ealdor, standing between them. Soon ... very soon, they would have to discuss the place it would have in their lives, but he wasn't going to ruin dinner by addressing the issue at that time. There was time and he didn't want to break the harmony between them after that afternoon of love.

"It's obvious, my love. I am a dark businessman and you, my dear husband, are the opposite of me. We are light and darkness. And inevitably, we pull in opposite directions. In some matters I will yield to what you want, because you attract me so much physically that I enjoy giving in to your desires."

"You will grant me small victories, but the big ones you'll reserve them for yourself, is that what you want to tell me?"

"I pretend to be the master in my own house," he said, nodding. "Would you accept me any other way, Mer? Would you still admire my strength of character if I become a weak man, dominated by his concubine, determined to do everything as he suggests?"

"I could never dominate you." Merlin laughed at the thought, because Arthur's appearance alone ruled out any hope ... If he had ever had one. His features denoted power, and hard work from an early age had given strength and resistance to his body. Being physically close to him had not erased the strange fear he inspired in him.

The knowledge of his powerful body did not give him access to his mind and still in many ways, he was still the stranger of a distant land that had taken over his life, just like Camelot and Ealdor. The biggest difference is that he seemed indifferent to the house, which he supposed was very natural, because who expected a man with his power to find an old stone mansion in the fields of Ealdor interesting?

Dinner continued as did the exchange of glances. They then served a more generous wine and Colin thought that at the end of the evening he would be quite dizzy.

Leaving the glass of wine on the table, he saw Arthur frowning.

"Don't you like the wine?" He asked.

"It's a little strong," he smiled. "And I don't usually drink much"

"If you can't go up to our bedroom alone, I'll carry you in my arms. Come on, grab your glass and drink with me."

"Arthur, are you trying to get me drunk?"

"I want you to feel free of everything. We are on our honeymoon and we must savor every moment. There should be no shadow that obscures the moments we spend together, just as there is no particle that obscures the clarity of this wine, which has been distilled from the wild grapes of Albion."

"Very well," Colin drank from the glass, "how can I refuse when you resort to your charism as husband?"

"So you know that is a Greek word?"

"I consulted the dictionary and it came from the Greek and means “supernatural power and talent”. You have those qualities, don't you, Arthur?"

"Do you think so?" He smiled evasively. "You'll have to learn your language, Mer, because your roots are closely related to English. There is an excellent language teacher near the cathedral, with whom I learned and I think it would be good if you took lessons with him. Would you like it?"

"Arthur," he drank a long gulp of wine, because he needed courage, "Do you mean that when we leave Albion, we will live in London?"

"I have a very large apartment there, so it seems natural to me," he carefully cut a piece of meat. "Do you have any objection to my plan?"

"I expected ..." He took a deep breath. "I dreamed that we would have our home in Ealdor for at least part of the year. Can't we do it?"

Arthur ate slowly, hesitating to answer Merlin's question.

"Arthur, please, tell me yes." His eyes were fixed on him, on the man who had him in his arms that afternoon and he couldn't be so cruel to tell him that living in Ealdor was an impossible dream he should erase from his mind.

"I suggest we discuss it with coffee," he said. "First let's enjoy our dessert"

"I won't like your decision about going to live in London," Colin tried to speak calmly, but his voice trembled. He hardly dared to face what was going to happen in a few more moments.

Arthur's attitude was a warning that all the harmony they had enjoyed together would become discord when they talked about Ealdor.

_What would he do? How would he react if “his Arthur” told him that he had decided to sell the house?_

Dessert was served and, although it was an appetizing flan of hot and aromatic fruits, covered with cold cream, Colin had lost his appetite. He noticed that Arthur was watching him and forced himself to eat a small part of the dessert.

He didn’t call his attention or speak until they entered the room where they were served coffee. Arthur remained standing, holding the cup in one hand. Merlin was very aware of the determined character suggested by his tall figure, projected on the white wall, under the blue ceiling where a huge bell-shaped lamp hung. The circular carpet was astrakhan; on the banister of the wide window, there were vases of black mud with symbolic inlays, but not for him.

From a place outside, came the chords of a melody that echoed in the wind of the night; inseparable notes of joy and sadness that made music the most captivating thing Merlin had ever heard.

They seemed to tell him that in life with a Mafioso, it was impossible to reach an agreement. It was like in Arcadia, where the shadows that produced joy and suffering at the same time.

He pushed his coffee cup aside and nervously ran his fingers through his hair that, like a silk veil, hid his gaze from him. He was gathering the courage to speak; He was looking for words that would not lead them to an argument, when Arthur broke the silence with his low, slow voice, taking him apart.

"I've been trying to find a suitable way to describe your eyes, Mer, and it occurred to me that ... it's like the silver flash of a flying hawk's wing."

Through the windows, he could hear the music like the beat of a metallic heart and the pines filled with life with the song of cicadas. Merlin shrugged his legs; there on the couch, his shirt seemed to float like smoke, wrapping his perfect body. His eyes, wide open, examined the room: the ivory-colored carpet, the white marble-based lamps and the hand-carved wooden furniture. His gaze finally settled on a vase full of red and white roses.

His nerves got very tense when he heard the lighter click and a cloud of tobacco smoke floated up to him.

"Tell me what you are thinking, Merlin," he ordered. "We have already drunk coffee and I promised an answer to your question about Ealdor.”

Still looking at the vase, Colin asked him again if they could spend part of the year in Ealdor.

"I fear that is impossible."

His answer stunned him. He seemed so cruel and heartless. His eyes threw lightning as he looked at his face. He felt hurt and perplexed. Arthur's features seemed bronze through the smoke scrolls; they matched his hard heart, he told himself, desperate.

"You fear nothing," he replied curtly. "People need a heart to feel something and since you are covered up to the neck by armor, you don't mind hurting me like that!"

Wounded in the deepest, Merlin knelt on the couch and begged, his hands extended towards him.

"Why do you dislike the idea of spending a few months there? You know how much I love Ealdor. My heart broke when I knew that my father could no longer support it. Why Arthur? Why didn't you sell it right away if you didn't plan on living there? Did you just keep it as a card you hid in your sleeve ... as a trick to get me to marry you? Is that all Ealdor meant to you?”

Arthur continued to smoke in silence for a few moments, his gaze fixed on his anguished face framed by dark hair. Then, suddenly, he reached into his jacket pocket and took out an envelope. In an instant he reached the couch and handed it over.

"You better read this."

Merlin's hands were calm when he took the envelope and looked inside. He pulled out what looked like a telex message and opened it. It was written in Greek "Oh, great!", But he recognized a word that he spoke out loud.

"Ealdor."

His gaze quickly turned to the hidden face in wisps of smoke looming over him, with a somber expression.

"What does it say, Arthur? What does the message say?"

"Before I tell you, Merlin, I suggest you pour yourself a glass of brandy."

With the cigarette caught between his lips, Arthur went to a side table. The only thing that was heard was the noise made by the glasses when they collided, when the liquor was served in both; That was the only indication that he was nervous about what he would translate.

Merlin took the glass with his left hand, fearfully squeezing the message between his right hand fingers.

"Tell me," he said anxiously. The bones of his face could be very defined, there were small shadows under his cheekbones.

Arthur looked down at him and made no attempt to take away the message.

"I know the words by heart," he replied. "It says Ealdor was destroyed by a fire and there was very little left of the house.”

He heard the words, suffered when he heard them, but they made no sense. Ealdor had been part of his life since the day he was born. In winter and summer, at any season, it stood strong and indestructible in the countryside, dominating the village, where the road made a curve to take the direction to the old tavern located between the houses with stone facades, all joined, but its sloping roofs were at different heights. They were made with slate of local stone, hard and shiny that resisted the weather so well. Some walls were stone and the contrast was picturesque.

The road itself was made with flat smooth stones and the pavement was a narrow lane. There was an old dark stone church, surrounded by shops that had been built on its cobbled walls and the unique tavern with its white walls, covered with vines and roses, the windows with prominent mounts and the black chains that held the pillars that adorned the front.

So many times he had passed by, walking, at sunset, crossing the meadows, in front of the old fabric factory, with its diamond-shaped glass windows and wooden-clad walls. The wonders grew in the garden and every summer he had cut some flowers to take them home, because the Ealdor gardener refused to allow them to grow in his elegant and well-kept parks.

"No," he shook his head negatively, unable to believe it. "How could it burn?"

Arthur sat next to him, putting out his cigarette in an ashtray.

"Come on, take the brandy, my beloved, it will help you feel a little better."

But his thoughts were far from Arthur at that time. He went back to the house where he had spent his early years. Were these strong oak woods ashes now, as were the swing windows and stained glass windows that portrayed the legendary soldiers and lovers who bore the name Morgan? How could the marquetry work and the old benches with oak frames have disappeared? He couldn't believe that those high doors, decorated with paintings, would no longer open to give way to the luxurious rooms, whose windows were covered with ivory brocades and that had high-backed leather armchairs that invited people to sit.

"It can't be true." His eyes implored a denial, but instead, Arthur put his own glass of liquor over his lips, ordering him with his eyes to drink.

Merlin obeyed, choking a little with the drink that had warmed Arthur's hands.

"The house is destroyed inside," he said, meeting his gaze. "According to what they told me, there are only a few walls left ... exterior walls."

Merlin shivered.

"Like memorials of stone!"

"I fear so, honey" Once again he urged him to drink the liquor. Merlin had to make an effort to pass it through the lump that was forming in his throat.

"When did it happen, Arthur? How did it happen?"

Arthur explained that they believed that some decoration materials, such as paints and wet cloths of oil, had caused the fire when someone left a burning cigarette in the room where they were stored.

"The insurance company will find out exactly the cause of the fire." Arthur sharply hurried the brandy, his fingers gripping the stem of the cup.

Gradually Merlin was assimilating the news. He was still studying the message, his eyes were fixed on the only word he understood ... the name of the house that a careless painter had turned into ruins. He shuddered in pain as the image of his burning home appeared in his mind.

"When did you get ... this?" He looked at Arthur sadly. "Did the boat bring it with your mail?"

He seemed to hesitate for a moment and then clenched his jaw so that it looked like iron.

"I received it at my hotel, the day of our wedding."

Colin listened to his words, then he understood their meaning and, suddenly, it seemed as if a spark ignited the fire that had been dormant within him.

"Why didn't you tell me? I had the right to know."

"I was worried."

"What worried you, Arthur?" He stared at his face, "Did you think I would have refused to marry you?"

"There was that possibility," he confessed. "I am aware that Ealdor was one of the reasons you married me. Besides, your brother’s freedom."

"I'm glad you realize that." At that moment, Merlin needed an object to vent the pain of his loss, the fury and despair when he imagined Ealdor as a ruin blackened by smoke, instead of a beautiful building that stood out in the landscape and that had been there in the countryside for centuries.

The memories of each and every Morgan had gone in that fire. Especially his parents'.

The pain he felt was much greater than the outrage he experienced when he had learned that the house was owned by Arthur. Then, he was a stranger, but now Arthur was the closest person to him and had not had enough decency, on his wedding day, to share the tragedy of Ealdor with him.

They had stood next to each other, in front of the church altar and he was sure that, throughout the ceremony, the message was hidden in the pocket of Arthur's suit.

"Yes," he said in a very cold voice, "there would have been no reason to marry you, Arthur. My brother was out of your reach and you knew that if you had shown me the telegram, I surely would not have married you."

Someone intentionally cleared his throat near them.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

The man adopted a continent of wounded majesty. "Come on, Arthur, I'm your cousin."

"Lancelot?" Merlin turned to see the man dressed in a white beach suit. "I remember you"

"I didn't want to hear your discussion. But...I am afraid to say...That is not the only thing your husband hides from you."

"Who has given you permission to land here? Get out!"

"Arthur, what is he talking about?"

"Nothing"

"Nothing. You call it nothing using this marriage for an inheritance?! How shameless, Arthur, how shameless, brother."

"I'm not your brother. Don't talk about something you don't know! It's not fair! I've always tried to be a good man, I've always tried to help you, it's not fair! It's not fair to try to ruin my life. Leave, leave us alone. "

"Now I understand everything. You couldn't wait any longer to get your hands on the inheritance that your father will leave you. That would change all your plans, wouldn't it? Besides... both your sisters and your friends couldn't understand why your fiancé was so affected by the destruction of a house that was centuries old."

"Enough, Merlin." He tried to touch him but, in a fit of rage, Merlin withdrew his hand violently.

"All that mattered to you was your pride, your great sense of diplomacy! Your dignity, keeping your head up, respecting your own honor ... that's what matters to you, isn't it, Arthur?"

"Yes, they matter," He agreed, "But I didn't see what would be earned by spoiling the day for everyone. I knew very well that the house meant a lot to you, but in the end, we should all grow up, Colin, or should I call you Merlin?... and it was time for you to become my husband, for you to live your life together with mine and, although it is tragic that Ealdor disappeared, devoured by the flames, I also felt, in a very clear way, that destiny had ordered so."

Merlin stared at him. His words had ignited even more the fury burning in him and the smoke of this anger was coming out of his bright eyes.

"I hope they didn't burn it on purpose!" He shouted.

Arthur held his breath and the knuckles of his hand paled as he squeezed the cut glass of the cup he still held. The silence broke when the cup suddenly broke as he squeezed. He released the broken stem that fell on the carpet.

"How do you dare to say such a thing?"

For a moment, Merlin felt scared by his expression of rage, but tried not to cower in front of him.

"Can you blame me for thinking it?" He asked defiantly, "It would have been a way of forcing me to stay in Albion."

"The fire that destroyed Ealdor was not deliberate." His eyebrows gave a threatening appearance to his face. "I was redecorating it because I wanted to enjoy it when I could spend some time there. I thought you would know that most of my business was in London. There was never the alternative of Ealdor being our permanent home, but it would have been our home during the holidays and that is the truth."

His sense of justice warned Merlin that what he was hearing was the truth, but that did not relieve his feelings at all, nor did it lessen his anger at the injustice of keeping him ignorant of what had happened during all this time.

The applause beside them reminded them that they were not alone.

"Bravo... bravo, now kiss him and let's pretend that you have never hidden anything, like the fact that you were engaged and your inheritance plans were with someone else."

"What?"

"That is not true, Merlin."

"Gwen will be disappointed to hear that"

Merlin couldn't believe his ears. He watched Arthur but listened to Lancelot, stones in his heart.

"It is a pity that she was already committed to someone else."

"Close your damn mouth!" Arthur demanded and looked for his husband's eyes. "Merlin"

"It is true?"

"Gwen was my fiancée. That's true ... but ..."

"She cheated on him with me. You were the perfect distraction to forget her. You're so different from her ... for obvious reasons of course" Lancelot said with evil, "Arthur has always loved Gwen despite her betrayal. They are surely planning to be lovers."

"That is not true. I love Merlin! And I have loved no one else like I love him. I would never be unfaithful to him, never! Not even if he rejected the only right I have to be by his side."

"You won't believe such blasphemy. He is only deceiving you."

"I believe you, Arthur" Lancelot was surprised at those words, "But you had no right to hide all this from me." Merlin snapped. Arthur had sat very close to Merlin on the couch, so he stood up and walked away. Lancelot kept his distance. "You love me. But, I was born there, Arthur. I grew up in Ealdor and loved every corner and every crack in the house, inside and out. Oh God, I hardly dare to think about how scared the villagers must have been of the fire!...I am not surprised you were engaged. Nor that you loved someone before me"

"Not that. I’ve never loved anyone but you!"

Merlin hid his face in his hands. Arthur stood up and approached him but, for the moment, did not try to touch him.

"Maybe I was wrong not to tell you, Merlin, but I am sincerely telling you that I had my reasons. The Pendragons have a saying that says: "There are so dangerous things that should not even be mentioned." And that is what I thought the morning we became husbands. I love you and I fear losing you more than losing my life."

He sighed deeply, like a man preparing to face a new danger.

"When I received the news that morning, I felt it was an omen and I had to ignore it. It was too dangerous to mention and I had to wait until I was sure I could do it safely."

"Safely?" Merlin raised his face and forced himself to look at him. "What do you mean by that, Arthur? You mean once you had me here, on your island, and after having me in your bed?"

"Oh, Merlin, you shouldn't talk about it like that," Arthur almost groaned as he pronounced his name.

"About our love nest?" He asked cynically. "I don't think Ealdor's destruction crossed your mind, not for a second, that night. You had achieved your goal once more and that's what your life is dedicated to, isn't it, Arthur? Regardless of the consequences, you will take revenge for all the misfortunes you suffered during your childhood. You will continue to show others that you managed to overcome poverty and, in doing so, took the brother of a man you helped as your husband to fall into ruin."

"Hell, that's not true!" He tugged at him with visible anger, suddenly he looked like a man who was about to lose control of his emotions. "Your brother was an insatiable player, willing to destroy not only himself, but all those he should have protected despite his debauchery. He had many debts accumulated in the Camelot Club and when my father refused to continue giving him credit, he went to another place until there was no stone, a brick or a tile of Ealdor that he had not lost in the game. I acquired its rights from the person who had them, my father, and the day you met me in that fruit market, I already knew about you, I knew about you long before you saved Morgana in that accident. And that was possibly the fatal day."

Arthur paused and put his fingers between his hair again and again, until he messed it up.

"Yes, dear, I saw you for the first time in the field near the house, training a young horse. It was a month before that accident...you were holding it with a long rope... It was a colt with dark hair and you made him walk in wide circles, around your slender white figure. You didn't realize my presence at that moment, because you were absorbed in what you were doing. I went into your house to return Ealdor's rights to your father, but he was not there. Your brother was. He had been drinking and I realized that your home would fall back into the hands of the owner of some other casino. Oh yes, I own a club, Merlin, but I have my rules, even if you don't believe it. And it is true that when we were in that market, I was already the owner of the house and not your father. From that moment, I supported you, but not because I found satisfaction giving orders to a Greek ... I talked to your father and he understood; your brother, Gwaine, swore he would change and I gave him a job in my casino. But, after your mother's death, he sank more. He was broken. He despised his lack of character, but he did not enjoy seeing his deterioration and was determined that your life would not be ruined by his choices."

"What a knight, Arthur!"

They looked at each other again... Merlin felt that a wave of sadness and confusion enveloped him ... there was nothing left that he could claim as his own... now he recognized what he was, what he always was, the husband, the concubine Arthur had bought.

Discouragement may end in tears or it may result in the need to express oneself with violence.

He looked at Arthur, and his expression seemed more impenetrable than ever, his muscles were contracted. He did not find even a little compassion for the destruction of Ealdor. In a second he threw himself at him and his hand struck the attractive face twice, violently, leaving very clear traces on the skin that, after all, was not made of iron.

"You suppose your money can buy everything and make up for the loss of the things that matter. Ealdor mattered to me and you are here, looking at me as if it had been a stable that burned, and not my home."

"Your home?" Arthur repeated, "You told me in London that, when the house passed into my hands, you no longer considered it as part of your life."

"That was before I..." Merlin bit so hard not to say the word, he almost took off the skin of his lip.

"Before you married me," Arthur said, looking at him ironic. "But when you became my husband, the big and wonderful house was very important to you again. God, how childish you are! Have you learned nothing from life in the hours we have spent together?"

"Yes," Merlin replied defiantly, "I have learned that all you want from me is my body and your fucking inheritance. You don't care if I am suffering from what has happened to Ealdor."

"That was your heritage too. Of course I care about your suffering."

"Why? Is it because you don't want to damage the merchandise?" He was using the vocabulary that he normally considered very vulgar. "You paid a heavy price for me, didn't you, Arthur? It's only natural that you want to get the value of your money, so, in terms of drachmas, you must be furious about the loss of Ealdor."

"Yes, I'm furious right now." His clenched teeth seemed whiter when he took an untimely step toward Merlin, who felt the panic shake his insides and, in that instant, he realized everything he had said.

Well, he had it well deserved, he told himself, moving away from him. He was showing himself with a man without a heart in relation to the beautiful and old mansion of which only a few scorched walls remained as a memory of all the memories Ealdor kept.

He felt a deep and intolerable pain in his chest and found no comfort in the man with a hard expression, who watched him intensely ... he looked at him as if his love for the destroyed mansion caused him disgust, instead of grief.

"Maybe, if you had memories of the house you grew up in, you could understand me better," Merlin said without consideration, "but you grew up in the woods, didn't you? That is very different."

The silence followed his words ... a terrifying silence that Merlin had to break with cruel words or get away from there and preferred the latter.

The silent Lancelot smiled halfway and Arthur struggled between hitting his cousin or running after his husband.


	12. Las hermanas Pendragon

"What is he doing here?" She said while opening the door of her house. She watched her brother-in-law from top to bottom.

"I ..." The brunette's hostility left him breathless. "I'm sorry ..." He seek help from his girlfriend, who was attached to his arm, "but Morg..."

"Let her be! It's called "envy of my younger sister "" The two greeted each other with a series of gestures, smiles and words that filled Leon with admiration.

Then, the owner of the mansion put her hands on his shoulders and kissed his forehead. "You're welcome, Leon. I was joking for god's sake! Stop being so tense or my father will kill you."

"You, your ..., you said ... your father" Leon stammered with a clear loss of color on his face "is he here?!"

"Hell! Morgana. You shouldn't mention dad, you see, the poor guy almost had a heart attack. Look at him!"

"Oops!"

In the garden the two girls were having tea. Leon had a wet handkerchief on his forehead. Morgause took his hand, comforting him and releasing him again. Uther had sent him to call his office and although the man was in a wheelchair, one could feel the danger just by listening to his authoritative voice.

"Calm down, honey, calm down."

"Leave it, Morgause. It's good for him to start being a man."

"Morgana!"

"It's okay, love. Your sister is more man than me, I can't win against that."

"Hey!"

"Well. At least you're not that shy with my family anymore." Morgause smiled funny. "One day it had to happen ..."

After a few hours.

Morgause and Morgana rode through the meadow. Leon followed on a small ass. Remembering to never again make the owner of the house angry and even more if she is your sister-in-law.

"Morgana, do you know who called me this morning?"

The brunette looked at her younger sister. "I guess it was our aunt Marilyn looking for her little black sheep."

The moans of a painful and horrified Leon could be heard behind them. He was horrified by the foul smell that the donkey was carrying.

"We also have our own black sheep and you know it."

"But he's not lost, only on his honeymoon."

"That's true. Arthur called me as well"

Morgana snorted and looked up at the sky.

"You put Sofia as a spy in our brother's house. Morgana, we discussed this."

"Good" the girl measured an imaginary distance with her fingers in front of the blonde "I had a little hope ... yes, that dear Merlin rejected our sheep ...and I...I wanted to be sure there was someone there to comfort him."

"Oh, God! It seems the black sheep of our family is you."

"You are not a saint either. I know very well the tricks you used with Leon." Both smiled accomplices and then turned to see Leon's thunderous blow as he fell from that tricky mule. "In addition, our law applies: may the best win."

"And by your face, I imagine our brother won."

"A prince is always a prince ... to keep my dignity high, let's say I let him win. Besides, in my defense, he gave me no chance."

"He's a Pendragon," the blonde said haughtily. "We don't give opportunities" Both laughed and Leon snorted as he dusted off his jeans and tried to catch his mule. He would not walk again and imagined that none of the sisters would get away from him.

"Talking about the black sheep…. Do you believe that…"

"Believe?! ha, Sister, I would bet on it."

"And you don't bet unless you're sure. Do you know something that I don't?"

"Let's say that while you were showing the stables and _something else_ to your boyfriend" Morgana suggested getting Morgause to blush, who instinctively grabbed the first buttons of her blouse and cleared her throat somewhat embarrassed "Sofia called me to know if she could allow Lancelot to enter the mansion. It seems that our beloved cousin wanted to surprise our brother."

"A surprise indeed, and with capital letters."

"Don't say that. I hope that idiot doesn't ruin our brother's marriage or, I swear on our holy and deceased mother that I will make myself some earrings with his balls."

"You surprise me. I thought you wanted that"

"We are Pendragons, Morgause, we don't accept leftovers" She released offended and continued with that indignant tone. "Remember that. Besides, there are a lot of fishes in the sea ... you already met our new foreman. His name is Mordred ... and, although he looks young... Let's say, those eyes saw many years"

"Only his eyes." his sister said cheeky, "I guess you haven't gotten into his pants yet."

"What a daring." she pulled her horse and turned around "You're still the youngest, dwarf" Morgause stuck her tongue out and also turned with her horse. "We’ll see if you can beat me in a race at last"

"Hey. Where are you going?" Leon shouted.

"See you honey."

"What? Morgause! Morgana! Wait! Hey! How the hell am I going to make this thing move?" He threw the reins of the donkey and kicked its sides with his legs, but it did not move. "God damn!"

He could only see how the two bushes of hair moved away. They were like day and night. Morgause alive and bright like the sun and Morgana as fearsome as death itself. They were the goddesses of Olympus playing being mortals. Leon sighed and decided to go down and pull the mule. It was that or, uselessly trying to make that creature move.

Leon returned exhausted to the stable and he found the capes, "What have you done to my lady to make her give you such reward?" Mordred smiled when he saw the expression on the man's face.

"Reward? This is cursed." Leon complained about the mule, "Morgana told me they didn't have another horse for me."

"My lady has lied to you" Mordred laughed, "We have more horses than servants in that house." He said pointing to the great Mansion a meter and a half away. "and...they are many."

"That witch."

"Ha, ha, ha. I beg you to keep your extensive vocabulary." Mordred frowned. "I don't like you insulting my lady"

"Don't worry. I understood the warning."

Morgana entered with Morgause. The first mocking the last for losing again.

"Leech," Morgana said.

"Witch" answered Mordred.

"Hey, I thought... but, if you ..." Mordred sneaked a sign that he didn't say anything and, ignored Morgana when she came back to see him.

"Thought what, dear brother-in-law?"

"You didn't have a horse for me" Mordred clenched his lips so he wouldn't laugh out loud while brushing one of the horses in the stable.

"Mordred! You told him?? Damn leech."

"I didn't know it was a secret." He defended himself with a sparkle in his eyes, when the girl pulled him to face him.

"It was, idiot."

"I didn't know. I'm not a sorcerer. Witch."

"If I were a witch, I would have you swallow that brush and enjoy it with hairs and everything."

Leon saw the way in which those two argued ignoring them completely. "I thought that…"

"Don't think so much, love." Morgause smiled as she walked away with Leon from the stable, "Let's go home."

"You're not going to say goodbye to your sister?"

"If I approached my sister with how heated she is ..., we would surely commit incest and we don't want a sin in the family ... let Mordred take care of her."

"Incest?" repeated Leon horrified.

"Love, just kidding." She laughed as she enjoyed her boyfriend's pale face.

"Calm down, I know" he stopped his girlfriend from the waist and pulled her to kiss her with all the passion and love he knew she could give him until the end of his life, "I just get scared to think of Morgana as a rival."

Both walked away holding hands.

"How do you think Uther takes Morgana's romance with the foreman?" He asked his girlfriend.

The blonde entwined her hands and kept walking "Oh Love ... I don't know. Sometimes I think my father has some deal with destiny. I don't think the arrival of that new foreman came out of nowhere. When I told my father of you... He already knew what kind of coffee you drink."

"And ... Merlin?"

"I already told you, my father has some deal with destiny or, maybe ..."

"Maybe...?"

"... A debt that is too big...with his past. Let's not think about this now... Just think of us and how magnificent it is to live far from my father and my siblings."

Leon laughed amused at the grimace of his girlfriend, who obviously lied, because she, despite complaining, could not be happy if her family was unhappy.


	13. La maldad de Sofia

He was never able to keep silent in front of his rival. He was always ready to return each of his insults.

Both were ridiculously similar.

Their physique was not similar since they were not blood relatives.

Lancelot lost his right as a biological son, being legally recognized by a stranger. While Arthur was a firstborn born by a whim of destiny. A renegade of his father's sins and the mistakes of a poor naive woman who, until the end of her life, believed in the love of a ruthless man.

Therefore, it is hard for both of them to trust to leave everything in someone else's hands. They are capricious and entirely obsessive. Being that they were forced to treat each other as brothers since adolescence ... they could never accept each other.

Never…

"You tell me something and I answer you. You did that to me, I did it to you in return" Phrases like these were oaths of mutual revenge between them and as normal as eating ice cream in the summer.

That was the chaotic story of these intrepid and bold youngsters.

His relatives would swear that they were born hating each other, even before knowing each other.

It was a silly, deranged and unorthodox rivalry.

The two men rolled on the ground, hitting each other as they screamed and grunted.

The blow of the blond rang rudely on the left cheek of the brunet. "No one taught you not to hit your big brother?" He said, striking back.

Punch, dodge, push and again dodge boldly and without wasting time, Arthur placed himself on top of the brunet to hold him, neutralizing his blows. "I'm older!" He assure by punching his jaw, "idiot...And by all the divine grace" he continued, cracking his teeth "you and I will never be brothers" He released him sharply and stepped aside. "We are nothing…"

"We are..." Lancelot began, copying Arthur's movements to get off the ground. "First cousins, "cousins." He replied sarcastically. "The best in the whole world, my brother..." he said in time to receive another blow to his stomach. Returning to his knees he laughed, ignoring the pain of that blow, smiling with irony as he cleansed the blood from his broken lip, and tried to return oxygen to his lungs.

As soon as they were alone, Arthur and Lancelot had begun to argue and one word led to another, they released the first blow.

"We're enemies. That is pretty clear." Arthur cleaned the blood that was also draining from his swollen lip, "What the fuck were you thinking? What the fuck do you want with all this?"

Lancelot leaned back, sighed, still smiling at the ceiling, while Arthur looked at him in the distance. Lancelot closed his eyes, and opened them, as if something had been revealed in that second. Then, he straightened again, leaning on his elbows and watched the ceiling, with the amazing and shining crystal chandelier hanging over their heads.

"If I tell you, you will kill me."

"Rest assured," said Arthur.

"Envy"

"What?? What the fuck are you talking about?? You've always messed with my business. Guinevere is a good example."

"You don't understand. The day I met you, I met envy. It was in that family reunion, organised by your father in your honor, remember?" Arthur nodded, knowing very well what Lancelot was referring to. His father had showing him off in front of the rest of the family and their associates, as if he were an exotic animal. He was just a bastard son, being recognized. "From the hall of one of their bedrooms, I heard a conversation between my parents ... they were going to separate ... Because the man I believed was my only true father was not. That completely destroyed me. And seeing that you, a simple orphan, was so accepted made me feel humiliated."

"Humiliated? Do you think I was proud of being the main attraction of that circus? Shit. That is no excuse. My mother died in childbirth. And yet, I have never retaliated with you for having yours"

"I know. Somehow I know that you always tried to ignore my attacks, my tantrums. But that only made me more angry. You were the peasant, the one picked up from nowhere. You had no diplomas decorating your room, no trophies and, even then, only after a short time, you stood out for being the smartest and most cunning of the family. Everyone loved and idolized you. They all loved you: family, friends, women ... everyone. If I took a step forward, you took two. Long before you came into the picture, your father was thinking of giving the casino to me, but everything was ruined by your appearance and the dubious paternity. That made me sick, both psychologically and physically. I was 13 then, and I was being tutored at home by a 'special' professor..." Lancelot shivered at the memory and Arthur was curious, "when we were alone, he would tell me things, encouraging me to be better than you and that became my obsession."

"You mean... Cenred?" Lancelot paled, but nodded, "He hated your father very much"

"That's why he ended up that way"

"What do you mean? He disappeared five years ago."

"Yes, he did. I never leave loose ends"

"You…you… you wouldn't" He hesitated incredulously. "You don't have the courage to kill a man."

"No an innocent one." Arthur sat on the floor and, Lancelot fixed his eyes with great interest. "I remember it, well. My father told me that he had hurt one of the most important members of the family. The word he used that night was 'unforgivable'. He was so upset that he thought of going through the task himself."

Lancelot felt a warmth spreading across his chest and his pressure taking his breath away. His uncle and cousin had avenged him. How should he feel? He wanted to cry, like when he was a child. He wanted to cry again ... without feeling the shame he felt in doing so, being a man.

"My father never wanted to tell me who that person we were avenging was. Was it you? I always thought so. That guy was always behind you, like a shadow."

"Cenred got into my head. I was a puppet. And as such, when he disappeared, my mind drifted, not knowing how to recognize what was right and what was wrong."

"Then, you got into my relationship with Gwen."

Lancelot and Arthur crossed glances. "I'm sorry"

"What?" Arthur could not believe his ears, he was mocking. Maybe it was a fucking joke.

"If I hadn't," he muttered, looking down, "Surely Merlin would be mine."

The blond stood with great indignation, "No way, Man!!"

"Just kidding." He said moving his hands to the sides. "Quiet ... let me finish."

Arthur snorted.

"I ... I ... wanted to be accepted by that man who was not my real father. I wanted to be my mother's pride and be able to toast at Christmas with a family. Having that warmth of a hug and when I met Gwen I saw... that shining in her eyes, while she looked at you. I wanted that too. I wanted it… until I understood I already had it"

"You used her for your ends" His tone was thick, deep. His hands folded in a fist.

"Don't say that." Lancelot settled more on the floor, observing his reflection, in the polished porcelain, bright as a mirror, "you may not believe me, but I came to love her, very much. So much that I really thought about marrying her."

"And you didn't do it so you could continue with your revenge."

"I didn't do it because I understood that I was in love with someone else and that if I married her, it would only have been to forget that person. Understand that if it weren't for that love I had for her, I would surely have continued to use her."

"But she learned the truth, first, and ran away. Now I understand"

"I humiliated her ... as a woman."

"What did you do?" the blond approached and took him by the neck again, lifting him forcefully from the ground. He might not feel anything romantic for Gwen, but still, he respected her and had a special affection for her.

"Don't worry. It's not what you think," He stared at him before releasing him, "Fate is a strange thing. Right, Arthur? Tell me, would you have fallen in love with Merlin while already in a relationship with Gwen? Am I wrong to ask you this question? Yes, right. You better answer me this, do you think you would have tried to make Merlin fall in love you had you been already married to Gwen?"

"I will not answer that"

"Why not? Don't you know the answer?"

"No. No one can know what I would have done in another circumstance."

"I know. You are too chivalrous, but your passions dominate you. Sooner or later you would have succumbed to your beloved Merlin. Because being together was your destiny. You know it, I know it. Why fool us?"

"In two words?"

"I did what you would have done to her"

"Lancelot" Arthur was annoyed to be used as an excuse. "You're saying I would have done the same as you? Don't compare us, we're not the same."

"No. We are not. If it comes to hitting, I know very well who would hit first, but I also know who would pay for the broken glass. Although I really tried to win over you, Arthur, I give up. I am and will always be less than you. Only scum."

"You know, the definition of scum is very underrated." He laughed. "Lancelot, really, I don't understand you. We could be good friends."

"But, I ruined it." He half-smiled.

"You really did" Arthur reached out for Lancelot, and he took the offered hand. "Merlin won't forgive me..."

"He loves you ... you don't have to be a genius to see it"

"You interrupted me." Arthur complained, facing each other, only without grudges this time, "He won’t forgive me so easily, but I have to try"

"Pendragons will always be hard to crack."

"You know we don't accept a "no" as an answer."

"Well, start moving, because I am to understand that the Morgans are also quite hardheaded."

"My father may not have had luck with Merlin's mother, a fact I am very happy about, but I have something he doesn't."

"Let me guess."

"Charisma."

"No. I was going to say something totally different ..."

Arthur hit him on the shoulder.

"Ouch! Go away! But ... I advise you not to force things too much ... let him calm down a bit."

"And what will you do?" Arthur asked.

"I'll get out of your way, for a while. I'm tired of being hit."

Arthur raised one of his perfect eyebrows, "No more revenge."

"No more. I have my boat anchored outside your palace. I'll be on my way soon."

"If everything works with Merlin, you're welcome to stay. If not, you can go hiding in hell."

"Doubting your charisma already? And where is the famous Pendragons' confidence?!" He laughed as he watched the blonde walking away.

"I have loaded the bullets and gun!" Arthur screamed back, running out of the great hall. "You’re warned!"

Lancelot smiled. "Envy ... yes, my faithful friend." He sighed. He took out a crushed cigarette from the pocket of his pants. He smoothed it with his fingers and lit it up with small matches hidden in his shoes. "Tell me, how pathetic I can be. While he managed to catch the heart of his beloved person, I can only collect the leftovers..." he laughed with great nostalgia. "No, actually, I don't think that's what I have left ... by now, Percy must hate me." as if it were a great joke, he began to laugh out loud. "Shit of the world."

***

Merlin fled down the hall and passed the cornerstone. He climbed the stairs, running to the rhythm of the stormy beat of his heart and it was when he reached his room that sadness sank its claws into the depths of his being. He dropped into bed, shaken by sobs.

Feeling the pain of defeat, he began to cry with tears that seemed to burn him. When he finally got to his feet, he was totally exhausted. He made a tremendous effort to take off his shoes and pants, because he felt very tired, but at last he could get rid of the wrapping of his silk shirt and went to the bathroom to wash his face.

It seemed that he had cried for all the sad things that happened in his life, as if they had been stored inside, waiting to be released. Now he was free of everything that tied him to Ealdor, his brother and of course his husband, Arthur. There was nothing he wanted to protect anymore. Not even his own heart.

All debts had been consumed by fire and he knew exactly what he would do at dawn the next day.

When he returned to the room, he found a tray with a jug of tea, a cup, cream, sugar and some cookies.

Trembling with cold despite being wrapped in his dressing gown, he poured himself a cup of tea and sweetened it. The hot drink helped fade the disgust he had received. He sat in an armchair near the window, his eyes still irritated by the abundant tears. He moved as far as possible from the armchair where Arthur used to rest, enjoying seeing him and knowing him. That's all he meant to Arthur, something he owned, something he liked to see wrapped in expensive jewelry and suits, to delight his gaze and his passions.

His eyes ravaged tears again, but he struggled not to let them escape, taking large swig of tea in an effort to stop a wave of discouragement. He told himself firmly that he had cried enough for that night and now he must forge a plan to escape the island.

It would be useless to ask Arthur in a civilized way to release him. That would alert him of what he had in mind and it would mean that the loyalty of his employees would prevent his escape from Albion, especially since there was only one way to escape and that was by boat.

But Merlin had a card hidden in his sleeve, this was an expression he heard his older brother used many times. He had realized the resentment Sofia felt for him and was glad he hadn't mentioned to Arthur his suspicions that his sister's maiden was spying on him, watching him as a cat studies a mouse, with the purpose of creating problems. And Merlin was going to give her problems.

After finishing his tea, he prepared to store some necessary clothes so that everything was ready for when it was time to leave. He folded a change of underwear, a shirt and pants and put them in a handbag. He made sure to bring some money. He hid the bag in the closet and then opened the door of the room without making a noise.

He found no one. By instinct, he knew that Arthur would leave him alone to cry and vent his misfortune. He went to Sofia's bedroom, on the upper floor.

Gently, he knocked on her bedroom door. After a moment, Sofia opened, wrapping her gown belt. Dark hair loose fell like a cloak over her shoulders; the pink color of her robe gave her a friendlier look.

But Merlin was not fooled. He had faced the real Sofia that same afternoon and was sure that if he wanted to escape from Albion he needed to turn to her.

"Do you want something, young master?"

"Yes, can I come in? I don't want to be seen" Instantly, Sofia's eyes sharpened. She opened the door further so Merlin could enter, then closed it and leaned back. Her inquiring gaze was fixed on her lord. "I would like to go to mainland in the morning" Merlin had decided to be direct. "Do you know someone who can take me? I have money and I can pay for the trip."

Sofia made no move to indicate that she was surprised by his words and, above all, did not seem sad. Her dark eyes swept through Merlin, who wore a luxurious blue robe; one more piece of the wardrobe that Arthur had bought him, in a very beautiful style, like all the clothes he had insisted on buying.

"Why do you want to leave, young man?" a flash of insolence shone in Sofia's eyes, as if she were aware of the scene that had taken place in the other room. "Don't you like being married to the young master?"

"That is none of your business," Merlin replied curtly, making an effort to control his dislike for Sofia and the revulsion he felt for having to resort to her help in order to abandon Arthur. "None of you, including Lady Pendragon, wants me to stay by his side and there is no danger to you. You work with his family and he would never cause them dislike."

"His marriage to you has already caused them many dislikes." Sofia reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a cigar case and a lighter. With her eyes fixed on Merlin, she placed a cigarette between her lips, put the flame on the tip and threw a puff of smoke at Merlin. "You had an argument with him, didn't you?"

Merlin refused to answer and a subtle smile was drawn on the lips of the woman, who threw smoke again. Suddenly, Merlin could no longer tolerate the vulgar way of smoking and its insults. He was about to push Sofia away to run back to his room, when the woman came forward in a threatening attitude.

"You argue with the Master as a demanding child who always wants to get his way. You are lucky that he controls his temper and does not teach you that the task of a "wife" is to please the man. You don't deserve him!"

"The only thing you are here for is to listen through the doors and spy on people," Merlin replied. "I'm out of here."

"But I can arrange for a friend of mine to take you off the island, young man." Sofia took a deep breath of cigarette smoke. "Tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Early?" Merlin asked, "Without my husband finding out?"

"My friend will do everything I ask. Didn't you see him in the boat when you made the crossing to Albion?"

"Was he one of the sailors?"

"No, sir."

There was something in the way Sofia was smiling that answered a persistent question Merlin had and that made him go back without intending to.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, "So, it's true that Arthur's sister hates me."

"Lady Morgana didn't need to tell me anything about what she felt about you." Sofia shook the cigarette ash. "I know how she felt, because I feel the same as her ... as if a virgin with lily skin, as spoiled as you, could satisfy the wishes of a man like the Master. What nonsense! He has balls. He is a very special man and it would all have been over by now if that same balls had not given him the courage to dive into the water to rescue you. Gilli tells me that you looked like a frightened kitten with your ruined wedding suit and wet hair."

Suddenly, Sofia began to laugh and Merlin felt a shiver of fear; a warning that he could not perceive that night in the party room, when a hand landed on his shoulder and threw him off the railing into the lake, while he felt dizzy from the reception wine and the strange ritual that served to turn him into Arthur Pendragon's husband. But now, his thoughts were as clear as glass and warned him that he should leave that room as soon as possible.

While trying to reach the doorknob, Sofia jumped and hit him with a vase that served as an ornament on a small table near the door, leaving him stunned on the floor. While trying to get away, she grabbed his hair, pulling him until he screamed in pain.

"Don't scream" Sofia brought the burning tip of the cigarette to Merlin's cheek. "I would love to ruin this delicate white skin, but suspicions would arise when they find your body among the rocks, at the foot of the village. Yes, young man, my friend will help you escape from the Master ... and it will be forever. There will be a very sad funeral and all the attendees will say that it was a pity that the sweet young Greek had fallen off the cliff during his honeymoon."

Again, Sofia laughed and Merlin felt another pull in his hair and his eyes glimpsed a pointed piece of the vase on his neck.

"As you will see, sir, everyone will remember that in the yacht you suffered a faint and fell into the sea; even the Master will not suspect."

"What do you hope to gain with all this?" Despite his great fear and being sure that the woman was crazy, Merlin tried to keep her talking. This kind of people always want to talk about themselves.

"The Master will be a sad widower and will need to be comforted for his loss. His sister appreciates me very much, as you know. She would be happier if I were her sister-in-law" while she spoke, Sofia looked at the cigarette nozzle that took the lips to taste the last puff. "The young master is a rich man, but after all, he does not belong to the aristocracy, right? He doesn't need anything now, instead he looked after goats, so why wouldn't I be acceptable enough for him? I could give him an heir. I am perfect and very talented."

"Of course you are," Merlin agreed cautiously. "You were cunning to pretend that you knew very little English. The truth is that you speak it very well."

"I know," Sofia smiled and glanced over Merlin's face, which was tense with fear and violence with which she pulled her hair and brought that piece of pottery closer, "Is it true you understand me perfectly?"

Merlin could only pray with despair for Arthur to come looking for him and be able to surrender to the safety of his arms, without worrying that he had bought it as an object of art that he had seen in a shop window.

"I wanted to learn English and the Master's sister made arrangements for me to take lessons" once again, Sofia looked at the tip of the cigarette and it was obvious that she needed to light another one, but if she did, she would also have to release the piece of pottery. "Why shouldn't I be ambitious? I'm beautiful and my hair is as thin as yours."

"You wouldn't like me to try to tear your hair from the root," Merlin muttered.

"No," Sofia replied, "but you don't matter anymore. The end has come for you."

"If your friend takes me to the mainland, I promise you will never hear of me again."

"The Master would follow and look for you" with a nervous gesture, Sofia threw the filter of the cigarette. But she didn't release her other weapon. Merlin tried to get away from that threat.

Just when Sofia tried to cut Merlin's neck in the face of the struggle. Arthur's voice was heard in the silence of the mansion. As it seems, he had noticed his husband was not in their bedroom and was looking for him. Sophia, surprised and anxious to be caught, dropped the pointed piece during the struggle with Merlin, and in the desperation of the moment, she put her hand on Merlin's mouth trying to keep him from screaming. Between struggles and pulls, he managed to bite the woman's hand.

Merlin did not hesitate; as soon as he felt that the pressure of her fingers in his hair decreased, he jumped back and dealt a slight blow to the woman's nose.

This time, it was Sofia who shouted, a sound that Merlin savored while fleeing from that terrifying room. His neck was bleeding, Sophia had managed to cut him during that struggle, that woman had not hesitated to try to kill him.

He ran, he shouted for Arthur and his voice echoed throughout the house.

Merlin would always remember the turn of joy that his heart gave when he saw him running up the stairs, running up to him. He would never forget the security he felt when he took him in his arms as if he were the most precious object in the world.

All the doors opened and the servants began to surround them while Merlin related, in incoherent words, his experience with Sofia. With a severe gesture, Arthur handed him over to the butler, so that a doctor would take care of that wound on his neck, while he went to deal with the maid.

The terrible expression, that fury drew on his face, made any doubt that Merlin had that his husband did not love him disappear forever. This time, the tears that rolled down his cheeks were tears of relief. And he understood later, while the remnants of Arthur's wrath were dumped into him later, and when the police left in a boat, taking Sofia and the sailor, Gilli, away.

Arthur walked around the room, walking with a mixture of disgust and pain, asking him incessantly why he had thought about abandoning him.

"I never imagined you would come to this," he roared.

"Why not?" curled up in his bed, with the morning sun shining on his hair, Merlin looked at him with his eyes, illuminated by the provocative glow of love.

"Because you know, as well as I do" he replied fiercely, "that we must be together and that the silly fights over some bricks and stones can never separate us. When you ran to me, on the upper floor, you were running to your other half and this is the truth. When I hold you in my arms, my darling, my heart also embraces you and I hope to continue to do so when the sun shines, in the dark nights and during the long years that the gods will allow us to share."

"But you never said it," he protested, "I am not clairvoyant, even though I worked with Gaius."

"There is no doubt, you will have to learn Italian and Greek" he went to him, lovingly, approaching quickly and lifting him as if he weighed the same as a feather. "When I hold you in my arms and talk to you about love, I do it in Italian, in Greek, in all languages, and I do it without thinking. I love you. I have loved you from the first moment I saw you, when the sun bathed your hair, like now." His arms narrowed, possessive.

"I gave the job to your brother, in my casino, to maintain contact between us and not because I wanted him to commit fraud in my casino. I did it, simply, because he was your brother, my love, I thought that he would be a more sensible person than he was. Can you believe now that I am a better man than you thought?"

Merlin hid his face in his neck, kissing him.

"Arthur," he said, suffocated. "Did you really think I would have abandoned you if you had told me that Ealdor had been destroyed by fire?" After the violent emotional storms, it was so pleasant to experience this deep sense of peace that filled every corner of his heart and mind.

"I didn't want to risk it" He confessed. "Nothing was going to get in my way on our wedding day. Nothing."

"Not even that your sister didn't approve of the idea that you married me?"

"My sister will conform and you should never believe that she told Sofia to hurt you" Arthur looked deeply into Merlin's eyes, as if he needed to dispel the last shadow of doubt that remained between them. "My sister is a God-fearing woman and she would not have accompanied us to the church if she really felt a grudge against you. She accepts that she lost. I am sure she will find another person to become obsessed with"

Merlin believed him ... he finally believed in the happiness they shared, being together. He responded unreservedly to Arthur's kiss and passion enveloped them, dominating them. He no longer felt compelled to restrain himself and could enjoy the fact that he, his Arthur, was so mature, so aware of the fundamental things of life, because love never blinded him for some bricks and stones.

"I love you," Arthur said in Italian, then in Greek and finally and after several desperate kisses, in English, "Soon you will learn a thousand languages and you will understand all my confessions of love. My deepest feelings, I can always express them better through our bodies. And my most fervent desire is that when we adopt our first child, he has the powerful lungs of my beloved."

"Don't you think it's too soon?"

"Oh sure." He kissed him. "First we will try to have our own." He assure kissing one shoulder and then the other. "I will do my best." He said looking for the curvature of his neck, right where the small wound was showing, "Day and night." He licked carefully, causing a tickle of anticipation in his lover, "Hour after hour ...after hours.."

"You are an idiot"

He returned his watchful eye to his lover's eyes, "That's true." He smiled and broke through the lips of others. Merlin almost lost consciousness in front of such passion.

Suddenly he notice that he was lying down on the bed with his beloved husband on top of him.

"I am an idiot in love."

Merlin smiled, knowing that they would always remember the moment he flew in those arms, ceasing to be the foolish young man who longed for Ealdor's ghosts.

Arthur was his home now, safe and permanent.

THE END


End file.
